#one side is totally blank though which is a little odd...

[barklikeagod]

a few issues placing this without tool and bbb installed but my god this build is insane

[grimmsbride]

❛Can you focus on me?❜ ⸺ Geto Suguru

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. given you endless stressing, suguru just wants to take your mind off of anatomy just for a little while..

【⠀♱⠀】 WARNINGS. ooc suguru (it’s honestly my first time writing for him i think—) | dom! suguru | oral sex (f. receiving) | overstimulation | usage of pet names | finger fucking | etc.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. short & sweet thing i randomly came up with after completely anatomy assignments <3. as usual please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes.

The screen was a blinding white, the naked body of a typical white man drawn upon it; little white boxes hanging off and labeling each body part. A few were filled in, whilst others remained blank. You’ve been stuck studying this for about an hour— worrying over body parts, functions, and much more.

Despite how challenging this current task was, you loved anatomy. A body part wasn’t always as simple as an arm or leg, this class helping you see deeper then that. It was interesting; all the different names for a single limb.

However, it didn’t matter how much you enjoyed the class if you were currently stumped. Your notes simply weren’t helping like they should, and you refused to use the internet. There was no learning from that.

Continuously you would slide back from the desk you were seated infront of, using a finger to point out the body parts you knew for certain. The accurate names escaped your lips in a soft mantra, eyebrows knitting close together whenever you stumbled or forgot a word. The frustration was growing, a telltale sign you should leave this assignment for now.

But, you were stubborn. And very intuitive; if you stepped away now, there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to the assignment.

A sigh of escaped your lips, catching the attention of the man currently laying amongst your sheets. His hair was loose from his usual lazy ponytail, and eyes focused upon the tiny book resting within his hand. Though, the gaze did. switch over to you in a second.

“You should step away for a moment, [Name].” Geto spoke. Your studying antics weren’t a surprise nor out of the norm; your mind simply believed cramming it in a single session was the most affective method. While he couldn’t exactly agree, you were a great student so the man couldn’t totally find fault. Still, hearing your unhappy sighs whenever you didn’t understand material was enough for him.

At his words your head lifted, turning your swivel chair to glance at his direction. That was tempting, both the suggestion and him; laying across your sheets in nothing more then sweatpants with the waistband of his boxers poking out. But, you refused— head shaking to effectively rid any second guessing out of your mind. “If I do that, I’ll never get done.”

The corner of his lip rose in a small smile, hand falling to allow his paperback to rest on his lap. “Maybe.. but you’re burning yourself out.” A worried tone hugged his words, eyes dipping across your form. Again, it was common for Suguru to urge you to take a minute. Just a single minute away from the stressful task.

And most times, you refused.

“I’m almost done anyway, Sugu. I promise.” You weren't completely lying. The diagram you were currently labeling was the second to last question, which made this so much more aggravating. You were right there, you simply needed the final push.

Suguru stared at your back for a moment, unmoving and searching for the solution to your stubbornness. Most times he could never find one, given it’s a trait that has seeped into odd aspects of your life— and relationship. He found it endearing at times, cute at others. But downright irritating at most. Especially when your stubbornness came at your own expense.

A soft breath escaped from his lips, pushing his forgotten book to the side before swinging his legs over the bed. With a single rise, and two long strides around the furniture he was approaching you; coming right at your side.

Noticing him, your hand quickly moved to grip the top of your laptop. Suguru was notorious for grabbing it off your desk or even closing it after assuring your work was saved. Such antics you were used to, and couldn't afford to happen.

But, it seemed his focus was elsewhere completely. Suguru’s hands rose and found your armrests, gripping them tightly. He switched your chair away from the desk, hovering above you. “Take a break.” His sweet voice urged again, lowering to allow your foreheads to brush against one another.

You glanced up at your lover, feeling your eyes flutter the moment his lips ghosted your warm skin. You always wondered if Suguru practiced magic in his past time, given how easily you could fall under his spell. His touches, gaze, and cool breath rolling against your skin. You were leaning into the man as his lips lowered to the side of your neck, nibbling against the skin gently.

Tempting.. tempting, it all was. You nearly shot up from the chair in desperation. But, your work came first. A steadfast commitment you had to keep.

Your hands rose against his chest, gently pushing him away from your neck. “Suguru..” You murmured softly, fighting yourself on this decision.

He was sighing even softer at his point, hands sliding from the chair and down to your thighs; uncovered given the nightshirt you wore. “You’re gonna burn out,” Suguru spoke, lowering before you until his knees hit the floor. Your eyes widened as they followed his movements, lips parting as his grip on your thighs tightened.

“— get upset, tired, and become unable to focus on anything.” His words were true, quick observations and results he’s took in since the beginning of your relationship. Suguru’s hands lifted your thighs, pushing you back in your chair until it bumped against the wall. With this leverage he was raising you even higher until your covered cunt was flashing him, the thin fabric of your pajamas pushed up to your waist.

“Suguru, yo—“ The words were caught in your throat the moment his lips traced the inside of your leg, a shiver running through your body all the way down to your toes. You felt him laying your legs on his broad shoulders, leaving you wide to accommodate his large size.

Suguru’s fingers then rose, delicately gliding across your panties before pulling them to the side— allowing them to stay caught on the junction between your thigh. He got closer, pressing his lips against your mound gently and squeezing you close the moment you twitched.

“Just a small break, love. I want you to step back and simply focus on me.” Suguru spoke right against you, lips traveling to your slit before you could even reply. A hand slithered between the two of you, thick fingers separating your wetting folds. Eagerly, your lover’s tongue escaped his mouth to lick a bold stripe along it; the flat of it catching your swelling bud.

You gasped at the feeling, leaning back into the chair and melting within moments. Here you were again, succumbing so easily to his spell— this pleasure. His tongue had only just started gliding across you and you were already keening; thighs twitching with each swipe across your hardening clit. Every pass you were getting wetter and wetter, arousal growing in large waves.

Your breathing was getting heavier, head lighter, and your mind emptier as Suguru continued. What’s more, the moment his lips wrapped around your clit— your thighs were squeezing his head, his name falling from your lips in a heavy cry. He moaned against you, soft mmms vibrating against your pussy as he devoured you entirely.

Releasing your clit, his tongue went flat against you; circling your heat. A mixture of the man’s saliva and your arousal dribbled down from between your thighs and to your taint, surely staining the leather seat under you. Your stomach was clenching, hands abandoning your shirt to instead curl your fingers through his hair.

Little tears were forming in your eyes, slamming them shut as the pleasure consumed your body. You were shaking, a bubbling storm ready to burst within minutes. It felt as if Suguru had only just started to toy with you, and yet you were so close already.

“Fu—fuck, fuck..hm—!” You gasped out, fingers tightening on his hair, pushing your pussy right into his face. This alone caused his hands to fall under your ass, assisting you in rising your hips even higher.

Suguru always loved this part of it all; the desperation. There were times you were so shy and reserved whenever his mouth was on you— as if scared to express yourself. But that’s exactly what he wanted, for you let go. Every twitch, moan, gasp, and more; Suguru would stay here for hours until he got every single one.

A prize that wasn’t only for you.

His hand slipped between your thighs again, pushing two thick’s fingers inside your wet entrance. Not even a second passed and he was curling them, pushing against the spongy spot within you just to feel you shake even more.

“Suguu.. fuck—!”

A breathy chuckle fanned right against you, his messy lips rising into a sweet smile. “Oh, look at that.. making such a mess for me.” Suguru breathed right into your pussy, fingers plunging in and out of you at the perfect angle.

Your hips were rising to meet the thrusts, clit throbbing as your hands trembled. Cries of pleasure escaped your lips freely, pornographic sounds that had his cock straining against his sweats.

“Not a single thought in that pretty little head, huh?” Suguru’s eyes dipped across your form, lidded and filled with lust. It was no secret he was proud of himself at the moment, fully stealing your attention away from the silly assignment. The smirk on his face even deepened the moment he noticed your computer screen had gone black.

“That’s it sweet girl, release it all for me. Let it out..”

His thumb rose to rub tight circles upon your bud, coaxing you with a come hither movement within your wet entrance. Your walls pulsed around the digits, thighs closing around his arm as the pleasure began to peak. Suguru’s eyes were focused completely on you, savoring the woman before him that twitched so uncontrollably.

Your head knocked back against chair, crying out as the pleasure surged through you— releasing all over his fingers. Which didn’t stop, continuing to fuck into you until harsh, overstimulated whines were escaping you.

“Fu—fuck, Suguru— I get it, I..” You cried out as little tears lol spilled from your eyes, trickling down your hot cheeks. Despite your protests and trembles his movements never stopped, continuing to curl his fingers to allow his finger pads to grind against that special spot

“Mm.. don’t think you do. Anatomy still on your mind, sweetheart— huh?” He was torturing you now, fingerfucking you with no concern for your well-being. Despite your weak cries and trembles, he fully expected a reply; shown in Suguru’s raised eyebrow and rising to be face to face.

“It is, isn’t it?”

You quickly shook your head, arousal pooling with each thrust; making a sticky mess between your thighs and the chair. Your walls were clenching around his fingers harshly, chest raising and lowering at such an intense pace it was nearly concerning. The burning yet pleasurable sensation of your orgasm was licking at the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode at any second.

Suguru leaned down, using his free hand to grab your throat and move you closer to him. His thumb rose to press against your cheek, planting his lips against your own in a deep kiss. He swallowed the sweet mantra of his name you bellowed, feeling your thighs shake before your hips rose for the last time.

Your release was dripping by now, coating his fingers. Unlike before Suguru withdrew his digits, allowing you to finally breathe.

The kiss broke apart shortly after, a single string of saliva connecting your lips. You leaned into the man, panting softly as you felt his hands fall to your hips.

“When’s your assignment due, love?”

“Tomorrow night.”

Suguru chuckled softly to himself, rising you up from the chair and moving towards the bed.

“You can pick it back up tomorrow morning.”

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[incorrectpizza]

Hah. So. The one-shot I posted the first day of @sabezraweek? It's uh. Not a one-shot anymore. Behold, the sequel, in which Sabine discovers a record of Ezra's time on Peridea:

Story also down below for anyone who wants to read here.

Ezra’s pod is small, but as Sabine explores it, it almost feels cavernous. There’s things everywhere.

A stockpile of dried and cured foods that the Noti taught him to preserve. Weapons he made from whatever he could salvage: stormtrooper blasters and rifles, wood, a strange metal that the Noti used that never grew cold , even on the rare days when the weather grew sour. And there are books. Made from some sort of animal skin, if her hunch is correct. Stitched together with thin, sinewy thread, pages surprisingly sturdy. 

The first one she finds, sitting on a ledge next to the pod’s tiny, Noti-sized second bed, is  a book of Noti bedtime stories. 

“Youongling’s Fables, A Collection of Noti stories as transcribed by Ezra Bridger.”

There’s a total of three charming little tales, each one accompanied by a symbol - some small splash of color signaling the beginning of a new story. Sabine studies them carefully. One is a simple  green circle with uneven splotches throughout - a planet? Another, a silhouette of a Howler, deep navy blue, just a hint brighter and more saturated than Ezra’s hair. The third, though, catches her breath. It’s a Jedi symbol. She reads this story first. 

It’s about the first Jedi to meet the Noti - not Ezra, but some old man in the distant past. The man died protecting the Noti from The Great Mother, a corrupted Force being the Jedi sentenced to ten thousand years of captivity in the mountains. Did this have anything to do with Baylan’s search? His quest for power? Sabine wonders, setting aside the book. She’ll show it to Ahsoka when she gets back from the hunt.

On Ezra’s little workbench, she finds three more books: all blank, waiting for words to fill them. Near the hatch, alongside a few odd “pots” and “pans,” she finds a “cookbook.” It has a dozen recipes, from “Noti Stew DO NOT EAT” to “Peridean Loth-Pie” to “Actually Edible Noti Soup.” She chuckles a bit and makes a mental note to show Ahsoka this one, too. Maybe they can find something that they can stomach once their ration bars are finished. 

And then, as she’s straightening up the other side of the sleeping quarters, she finds two books sitting by Ezra’s bed. The first one she picks up is a “journal.” Each entry is printed in small Aurebesh - so small Sabine puts on her helmet to magnify the words. Ezra must’ve learned quickly that books are harder to make than they look, Sabine muses.

The first page proclaims the book “Jedi Padawan Ezra Bridger’s Journal of A Galaxy Far, Far Away, Volume Five. Noti Nomadic Village, Peridea. Approximately 10 years after the Liberation of Lothal.”

Each page has multiple entries, almost but not quite daily. Most are mundane, ordinary. Sabine reads every single word of every single entry.

“Day 3,547. Jynt and I came up with a new way to attach the ropes to the pods today. Moving them is going to be a lot easier now.” Always ingenious.

“Day 3,574. I discovered a new species today. A little purple and orange caterpillar. I hereby dub it Sabineus Wrennius .” Sabine laughs and flips the page. 

“Day 3,631. I got to scare two night troopers today.” Still a prankster.

“Day 3,650. I really want to go home.” Sabine closes her eyes and sighs. He’s home now, she knows. She should be happy. And yet-

She wishes he were with her. Here. Or home. She misses him deeply, and it’s only been seventeen cycles. She finishes the book, which breaks off mid-entry. 

“Day 3,674. Nothing excitin-”

Was that when he heard my Howler in the distance? Sensed me in the Force? Or was he interrupted on another day and just never bothered to finish?

She closes the book, vowing to ask him one day about that last entry.

Then she opens the second book, the one tucked underneath. It’s tied shut with a thick cord.

She unties it and flips it open. The first page declares in bold orange letters “PROPERTY OF EZRA BRIDGER.”

“Do not look unless you are Ezra.”

Then, underneath, in small scrawl she can hardly read: “Or Sabine.”

Or Sabine? She furrows her brow, wondering what could be so important that Ezra didn’t want anyone reading it, and why she was the exception. Gently, her fingers grasp the edge of the page. 

It’s full of… starbirds?

A dozen of her symbols lie in front of her. Some sketches, others paintings. Their colors vary brilliantly, from blue to purple to green to (yes, of course ) orange. She flips the page again. More starbirds. But not just starbirds. This page also has a Jedi symbol, more crude than the one Sabine had found earlier, and an Imperial crest - crossed out with red, of course. 

As the pages go on, there’s less and less starbirds and more other symbols. Kanan’s Jaig-eyed mask. The patterns from Hera’s lekku. Zeb’s Bo-Rifle. Her helmet.

His drawings grow more detailed, more artistic as the book goes on until, by the middle, he’s got a definite, recognizable style. In the second half, he grows brave enough to try sketching them, their little family, as he remembered them. Hera and Kanan holding hands. Zeb scowling. Sabine flying around Mandalore, broad smile as she shows off her jetpack. Chopper arguing with AP-5. There are a few details off here and there - in one group sketch, her hair is too long and Ezra himself is not wearing orange, an unforgivable creative liberty, especially considering just how shockingly accurate and real the painting looks. 

It’s the very last image of the book, though, that nearly takes Sabine’s breath away. It’s them, hugging, foreheads pressed together in a keldabe kiss. The background - he painted a background? - has some vague, abstract Noti pods. The Ghost hangs in the sky, and Sabine thinks she might even spot Ahsoka’s ship on the ground. In the distance, a white Loth-Wolf looks on. Her fingers hover, desperate to trace the lines, but not wanting to risk damaging the precious painting. Underneath, there’s a title.

Someday Soon .

The next page has no art. Just words. 

Sabine, I hope you never have to read this. I hope I’m here when you come. But just in case, I want to thank you. For always being there for me. For teaching me about life, and art, and how to be a good friend. I couldn’t have made it this long without you. Even more than I ever realized, I love you.

Sabine hurriedly shuts the book before her tears can mar the pages. 

[golem-boy]

DevLog 02: I'd Rather Be Writing CSS

Hello again! This month's DevLog post is going to be a lot of fun. I'm going to talk a little about my endeavors with Neocities, writing code, and working with old-school web interaction.

I also wanted to make a note that I'm totally cool with folks reblogging and liking these posts, and you're welcome to snag the rss feed for this tag if you'd like to keep up with it but don't particularly feel like wading through everything else I drop here.

Without further ado--

Lately I've been working on a side project to help a friend out; their Neocities, is--like mine--going to be a place to host a ton of centralized information so they can just hand site links out rather than having to link a whole array of webpages to people in order to share certain stuff. (I totally recommend people do this, btw. Super useful, AND you get to learn html/css, which is great on a site like Tumblr, where you can employ that knowledge and skillset elsewhere!)

Thing is, when I started this, I'd been... a touch rusty on things like... you know, the basics, building from a blank space up into a proper site. One of my problems was accidentally adding a period before the 'body' stylization code in the css document, which, for those wondering, makes the css read it as a 'div' or 'span' tag, rather than a core component of the site. Rookie mistake, but I did manage to figure it out... by making links turn orange on hover!

How, you may ask? It confirmed that the style from the css was successfully applying to the barebones html I'd already written, and gave me a better idea of what exactly was going wrong. Never discount the odd ways of troubleshooting, tbh.

I've also made a huge leap of progress on my own site, specifically the gallery pages, though they are DEFINITELY still works in progress, namely in layout. I've had to expand my understanding a litle and read up on stuff like flex boxes, which I might expand on and cover in my next DevLog as I make more progress.

I also started sketching some ideas with a friend out for a sort of idle colony sim--I don't want to spoil too much, but our shared notes are preeetty exciting so far!

On the topic of games, Garry's Mod is kind of a wreck on linux. I managed to get it going fine with Proton 9.x, which is hilarious--it straight up does not run anymore on the native build. No idea what got broken, but it sure is Something to behold, hah. I have been wading through my subscribed items, trying to update some of the tools and utilities. One of these days I'll get my shit figured out and upload a UT99 playstation-port Xan... I already have a lot of plans for such a thing, of course.

I have been honing my skills with blender, especially rigging, which has been interesting. I definitely GET it, it's just a matter of synthesizing and memorizing parts of the control scheme and especially how to fiddle with things like shapekeys. The perk of ragdoll stuff is you don't need a ton of picky shit... phew! Getting ahead of myself a bit there.

This month has been super busy, and I've been a bit scatterbrained, but here's to another month of progress, eh?

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[roseofithaca]

Broken Bird

(A side follow-up to @idiotwithanipad 's The Return, following Gore Mary and Silver. Ft a brief appearance by her oc Amy).

She can't stop fidgeting. Not that that's anything new, she's nearly always twitching or shuffling or moving her hands, a near endless bundle of energy. But this was different. This was excitement. And nerves. But mostly excitement!

Mummy tuts again; "Silver Ravenstars Guppy, you must learn to be still."

"Sorry, Mummy. I'm just totally buzzing!"

"Hmm, I can sees that. You is a right little bumble bee this eve. But if you don't sit still enough for Mummy to finish sortin' your hair, I shall turn you into a buzzin' bee for reals and put yous to work pollo-newtin' thems flowers!"

Silver giggles earnestly, covering her mouth with her hands as she squirms with delight. Mummy always says such silly things that make her laugh.

She sits on her bed, letting Mummy finish braiding her hair. Today, in her shattered mind's eye, it's long enough to reach down her back. The pink in her fringe hangs in curly bangs framing her face.

"There. I 'spose yous shall do." Mummy was determined to make her hair as neat as possible (which took bloody ages).

That was fair enough, Amy's daddy was a Lord. A Knight, even. Did that make Amy a Lady? Silver wanted to make a good impression if he was looking out on the two of them.

Silver jumps to her feet and spins around, visualising the skirts of her magnificent dress twirling around her in flows of night black and pink to match her hair.

"How do I look, Mummy?"

Anyone would think the child was getting ready for her first prom, rather than a play date with the first child her own age she's met in twenty years.

The wraith of smoke and bone looked at her daughter, grinning from ear to ear, spinning on her toes, convinced she had been donned in an outfit far more glamorous than the ones she died in, her hair luscious locks cascading past her shoulders rather than a leaf-ridden ebony haystack.

Mary answers truthfully, eyes shining with pride; "Beautiful, my darlin' girl. As always."

"Not too beautiful though, I don't want it to seem like I'm showing off or trying too hard. If she does like the dress, then I can ask you to make her one? She didn't quite look like a dressy sorta girl though...Maybe she'd like a tunic and breeches, or some armour, or something completely new and cool-"

"Little'en!" The witch said, pointedly, taking her hands, "Your tongue soon be tying itself in knots before yous can call for the girl to come out! Breathe."

The dead Wiccan obeys her mother, as she always does, squeezing the smoky gloves that cover the skeletal hands of the older woman, as she takes a deep breath in and then out, though the odd inevitable giggle continues to leak out.

"I just want her to like me, Mummy, so she'll want to come out and play again and again." Silver explains.

"She be the biggest fool in the country if she don't, my love." Mary says, with a bop of her finger to Silver's nose. "Do stop fretting so when there be no need for it."

"Okay. I'll try."

Her mother mimed, putting a cloak around her daughter's shoulders, adding to the child's delusions about her outfit.

Silver admired her reflection in the mirror she imagined before her, instead of the blank tree her disconnected eyes truly observed.

"I wonder what games she'll like to play. Hide and Seek? Tag? Probably not 20 questions but I suppose we can find out another way to say yes and no without her speaking. Or maybe she's just one of those girls who just likes to talk? Best that she can, with all that water. Like you said my Godmummy did."

A smile would have twitched on the charred woman's lips had they not been burned off. Ever since she'd told Silver about Annie, it always warmed her heart for her child to refer to her as that.

"We can find a way to talk about boys. Or girls. Or maybe she likes both, or neither. I wonder if she likes video games and horror films? She can tell me about all the new ones that have come out since I returned from my wicked false family. Oh, we're gonna have so much fun! It's gonna be awesome! Hehehe."

Mary's fingers glided through her adopted child's hair; "I'm sure it will, dearest love."

There was a touch of melancholy, of bittersweet loss, in her raspy tone.

Silver turned and gripped her mother's hands.

"Thank you! Thank you so much for arranging all this!" She beams, nearly bouncing on her toes. "I know you were so scared of me talking to people after what happened to me as a baby. But you knew how important this was to me! You've made me so happy. Argh! You're just the best mum in the whole wide world!"

She threw her arms around the witch's torso, hugging her tight. There was a wince, followed by her mother's body gasping, and going very stiff.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Silver asked, face pressed against Mary's chest.

Her mother shook her head and just patted the young girl's hair.

"Never, my darling."

She gently pulled Silver back and smiled, lovingly, at her. A smile for Silver's warped mind alone to see, but true as any.

"Now you go have a good time. Our sweet beast will stay close by and walk you back to me at dawn. Remember, no entering the house or talking to any others 'sides your friend. That be understood?"

Silver nodded, eagerly; "Yes, Mummy."

"That's my good girl. Run along now." She kissed her daughter's brow and patted her lower back. "Tell me all abouts it on the 'morrow."

"I will! 'Night, Mummy!"

With a heavy, blackened lump of a heart, Mary watched as the girl she'd claimed and believed to be her own skipped off out of the woods and towards the field. Her baby bird, taking her first flight on such fragile little wings. Oh, how she'd thought if she kept her cage looking all sparkly and gold with as many treats and toys as she did need, she'd never want to leave it. What a fool she'd been.

The witch went to her ally, the beast who was scratching furiously at the ever present flea in his ear. At her hand on his mane, he grumbled, then relaxed as he recognised her acrid scent. He dipped his head in reverence.

"Bring her back to me at first light. Not a minute later."

-

"Amy! Amy, it's me! It's Silver, remember? We met a few nights ago...Or was it a few months? Hehehe, I don't quite know, time is so funny, ain't it! Anyway, you should come out and play! Don't be scared. Mummy said it's fine!"

Humphrey watched the dancing girl twirl on the field. The strange, feral child rarely came this close to the house. A well-bred instinct to be repulsed by her filthy, shameful appearance conflicted with his compassion and pity for the mad, blind little urchin.

Were her mother not a witch, he'd usher her inside quicker than two shakes of a lamb's tail. He'd employ and house her, not as a scullery maid, but as a handmaiden and companion for his little girl. Every Lady should have one, just as Sophie had her beloved nurse. It would do his Amy good to have female company, especially in her mother's - albeit brief - absense.

Sadly, she was no orphan, no unclaimed soul. Her mother was one of the most terrifying creatures he'd ever laid eyes on. It baffled him still why she'd shown mercy and let him and Amy go, given the tales about what she's done to others who have stepped too close to her daughter. The fellow with no breeches still carried the welts on his exposed knees.

"Amy! Fizzy Girl? Can you hear me?" An hour had passed and the girl was still hollering from the field; "You haven't gone to bed, have you? Please wake up, Mummy says we can only play together till sunrise! It's because I can dance much better in the moonlight, see? Will you come dance with me too? Amy?"

"SILENCE, YOU INSOLENT LITTLE BEAST! YOU'RE DISTURBING MY KATHERINE'S SLEEP!" Humphrey heard the grey lady holler from the east wing.

Even he knew better than to venture near the sick little lady's room on the other end of the house, where the stern matriarch kept her under lock and key.

He wasn't that bad with his Amy, was he? There were genuine dangers to protect her from.

Such as misinformed guards. And witches.

At first his little girl hadn't seemed to grasp the reality behind what prompted him to want to coddle her so. She had been confused, which was understandable given they hadn't had known each other long, Sophie having hidden her all these years. That was fine. They'd have time to build their relationship. But Amy had been indicating a desire to leave, to escape as she called it. Perhaps merely out of worry and wanting to find her mum. He got it. Girls need their mums. But dads have their uses too.

Finally she seems to understand that now. On her last return to the house, something or someone had spooked her so. Now she rarely leaves his side, either gripping his head to her when he's separated, as if he were a doll to bring her comfort. Or she's clutching onto the robes of his body, trembling ever so, reluctant to go near the windows.

Oh it brings him no joy to see his little girl so afraid. But better that she's aware than have her stumbling into danger out of ignorance. As much as he wished to shield precious eyes from the horrors of the world, he'd only be hurting her more.

"Amy!" The witchling called again, after a while, clearly not frightened off by the angry Lady from the Button family whoever they were; "Amy, please! I'm sorry if I did something wrong before! I didn't mean to poke your eyes or squish your face, if that's why you don't want to come out. I promise I won't do it again! We can play anything you want, promise!"

There was no way of unhearing the sheer, innocent yearning in the child's voice. The loneliness. Humphrey peeked ever so carefully through the gap in the curtains.

The girl continued to spin and giggle. A curious, spine tingling little wraith. Had the mist grown thicker on the field since he'd last looked out?

"Amy...Amy, come out and play. Please. If you need to get ready, that's okay, I'll wait. Just please come out soon..."

Poor child. If only he could at least toss her some bread and cheese. He has a ghastly image in his head of the witch feeding her human flesh on the bone.

No. Maybe that was unfair. Again, she had let him go. And his child.

A father you be. A mother is I. Hadn't those been her words, more or less? Maybe the demon only committed evil acts to protect her daughter. God knows, if he had such powers, he'd rip the world and all those therin into shreds to keep Amy safe. Hell, his headless body seemed to be half way to doing so when they were separated.

Humphrey moves back from the window, looking over at his daughter on her bed. He sits beside her, folding part of his robe over her as a blanket, though she's already confined herself inside her little black robe.

"You don't wish to go out there, do you, Poppet? I have no way of guaranteeing if the girl's claims about her mother approving of this is true...But if you did want to-?"

Amy doesn't reply, not that she can in words without vomiting. But she doesn't so much as raise her head. All she does is grip his cloak and hide underneath, still trembling terribly.

His heart panged. If only she could tell her old dad what traumatised her so. Then he might be able to help make it better.

"No, that's fair, Amy, love." He sighs and strokes her head through the cloak and thick hood she wears; "You get it now, don't you? Dad isn't just being a silly worry wort. Best to stay inside where I can look after you. Perhaps when your mum is back, we can talk about you making some friends. Sound good?"

-

First rays of the sun begin to creep over the treetops. The mist had formed thick dew drops that trickled from the leaves and branches, as if rain had fallen on the clear night.

The blind girl continues to spin, though her movements are becoming lazier, arms drooping at her sides. She's been going straight for hours, her throat a little sore from the constant calling.

"I'm still here, Amy, just in case you fell asleep and changed your mind...It's okay...I get sleepy too..." She murmurs to the misty ether.

A growl behind her makes the hairs on her neck rise. A hairy head nudges her hand.

"Please...Just a little bit longer..."

A louder growl responds. Tired. Annoyed. Not in the mood to argue.

"I know Mummy said to return at dawn but I haven't even-"

The beast snarls at her now, then wraps his claw tight around her arm, tugging her back towards the forest.

"No...No, please...Mr. Floof, just five more minutes. Be kind, please."

He ignores her, tightening his grip.

Silver giggles, a tear falling from her eye.

"I hate you."

The beast stills.

"...Oh? You heard that, did you?" The young girl cackles; "Why, does it matter? You hate me too, right? Why else would you be so cruel? Why else would you never want to play with me? Why would you give me away when you were supposed to claim me as your own?!"

He let's go of her arm only to roar in her face. The girl shudders but stands her ground.

"That's right, isn't it? You watched me die. You found me. Mummy said that's how lost children are claimed. But you didn't want me, so you gave me to her. You gave me away."

Hot, ill-tempered breath wafts against her face.

"It's fine! It's fine, it's all fine, hahaha..." Silver giggles, manic and distraught; "You're not the first, or the last it seems. No ones ever wanted me, except Mummy. Not even the people who stole me wanted me. And now Fizzy Girl doesn't want me either..."

Another huff, then the beast grabs her arm again. Perhaps a little more gentle this time.

She doesn't move her legs.

"Mummy said you were a daddy once."

He stills. He growls louder this time. Silver smiles, knowing she's punching below the belt. Good.

"Did you hate all kids who weren't your own flesh and blood? Did you throw them away or pass them off to others because they weren't yours? Or am I just...broken?"

A warning snarl and a gnashing of teeth. Silver almost thinks she hears the words 'shut up' there somewhere.

"It must drive you mad. You wanted rid of me and yet my mummy orders you to watch over me. Hehehehe. I bet you dream of lashing out at me, don't you? You dream of tearing my annoying throat out with those claws and biting off my fingers? Go on then. Do it. DO IT!"

This next roar in her face makes her hair move, eyelids blinking to avoid the spit.

That's all he'll allow himself to do. Because anything worse would be welcoming his mistress' wrath. That's all that's holding him back, Silver knows. No care. No love.

She's nothing to him.

Just as she was nothing to the kids at school. To her false family. To the people in the house. Nothing. Nobody.

Silver laughs, tears falling fast. She wants the teeth. She wants the pain.

"Do it! Do it! Do what you want to me, make me suffer, tear me apart like you fucking want, you horrible, heartless creature-!"

"SILVER GUPPY, STOP THAT NOW!"

Her hands are fists. They were beating into the beast's mane, knocking into his brow and cheeks. A mixture of growls and confused whimpering filled the air as she finally ceased her mad flailing at the sound of her mother's bellow.

In her mind's eye, she sensed the beast shuffle away, more emotionally wounded than physical from her attack. There was a pang of regret and pity in her heart before she reminded herself of how little he cared about her.

Arms formed out of thin air around her. She smelt the heavy burning smoke as the tornado appeared and swallowed her in its grip.

"We are going home this instant!" Her mother hissed into her ear.

In a split second, Silver could tell they were transported back to the forest.

Mary released her daughter and turned her to face her, gripping her shoulders.

"How dare ye abuse our poor ally in such a way! He doth so much to protect us and asks for so little! It not be his fault that his noggin' be demented after aeons of pain and loneliness! And it not be like you to lash out with such cruelty! What on Earth possessed ye-?"

Silver burst into tears, her sobs heavier than ever in the last twenty years. Her grin remained but it was impossible for anyone to see the girl's face and mistake it for anything other than devastation.

It melted the witch's heart in an instant.

"Oh darling! Oh my darling girl, come here." She wrapped her up in a tight hug, ignoring her own discomfort; "Mummy's got you. It's okay."

"She didn't come out, Mummy. Amy didn't want to play...She didn't want to be my friend..." She wept, sounding more five than nineteen.

"There there." Mary let her daughter cry out as much as possible until she was nearly out of tears, slumping with exhaustion against her.

She sat with her on a log and rubbed her arms, humming her baby girl's favourite lullaby.

It were a while till she spoke her next words.

"Mayhaps it be for the best, little'en. Better you lose her now than later on when you two be close enough for her to betray your trust." Mary tried to console; "Don't worry. Mummy will always be here."

Silver stopped crying.

She sniffed and pulled back from her mother's hug, the light in her eyes suddenly snuffed.

"Yes. You're right, Mummy. You're always right." She said, her smile never more false.

Mary felt an invisible knife stab at her chest.

"I don't always likes to be, darling girl." She says; "T'is only because I care. You understand that, don't yous?"

"Yes, Mummy."

The response is robotic. One out of obedience and fear. Nothing more.

Mary tries to tickle under Silver's chin; "Now come along. What can I do to cheer my little one up? Another dress? A freshly baked cake? How about a fantastic quest or a grand ball? Or I cans summon a unicorn or a dragon to be thy pet? What it be? Say anything."

Silver's sightless eyes meet hers.

"Anything, Mummy?"

"Yes, my little love, anything your heart doth desire!" She would throw herself upon the pyre or be dunked a thousand times to make her daughter happy.

Silver takes Mary's hand and places it to her own temple.

"Make me forget."

Mary blinks.

"Forget? Forget what, darlin'? The cloaked ones child?"

She nods; "Yeah. Make me forget her. Then make me forget about the years I was away from you. Make me forget about the people I saw in the windows of the house. Make me forget the dog I loved and who loved me back, and the few friends I had in the old world. Make me forget why Mr. Floof won't love me. Make me forget it all. Please."

Mary wonders if the child is serious or baiting her. The tone of absolute rejection and heartbreak in her girl's voice worries her so.

She strokes her cheek; "Silver, sweetheart, there be limits to memory spells. Take away too much and ye will lose what makes you who you are."

"Good."

Now that shakes her to the core. The witch stares, the horrified one for a change.

"Little'en, don't-"

"I don't wanna be me, Mummy! No one wants me! You only do because you're my mum. But Amy, the beast, everyone else, they can't wait to get away. They hate me and I hate who I am. Hahaha, I hate remembering a time when I didn't have to smile and laugh! Hahaha...I can't do it anymore..."

Mary shuffles closer to her poor child, opening her arms.

"My sweet baby, I never meant for-."

Silver collapses forward, burying her head in her mother's lap. There was no strength left to wail. But every little sigh and lament she utters is filled with tragedy.

"Just take it all away. Make me a pretty, smiling shell. I can be your good little girl and nothing else." She whispers, clutching at the remains of Mary's dress "It's all I'm good for after all, isn't it? Haha...hahahahaha..."

Mary just sits and caresses her daughter's head for the rest of the morning. No. No, of course she'd never do such a thing. Even if it was a guarantee of ensuring her daughter's happiness, it wouldn't be real. She wouldn't be her Silver. Her kind, imaginative baby girl. The witch wanted a daughter. Not a doll.

Deep in her own mind, there fidgets a niggle of unspoken guilt and shame. It seems she had been too harsh on the girl after all. She was a child, the same age as her own little one. Mary would have incinerated anyone who scared her daughter the way she had the mute girl. But she'd thought it was necessary, to let the child know how serious she took the joy and safety of her darling girl. And....it had been centuries since she'd shown any of her softness to someone who wasn't Silver or her ally or Annie.

Her daughter's tears are on her hands, both figurative and literal. Her actions had broken the child's precious wings before they'd had a chance to take flight. What had she done? And what could she possibly do to fix it? Or was it better she kept her distance and waited to see if the children would find each other again?

"I'm sorry, darlin' girl. Mummy's ever so sorry."

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be (iii)

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: After meeting Garcia you make quick work of helping with the case, desperate to prove yourself to Hotch. Once the two of you help the team wrap everything up it’s time for them to return home. Which also means it’s time for you and Hotch to talk. One on one.

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.

Word Count: 5,288

A/N: I wanna say I’m super happy you guys are enjoying this series cause honestly I’m having a lot of fun writing it! I love you all dearly. (If you’re just now finding this series, that’s perfectly alright! I’m glad you’re here! Feel free to catch up and enjoy the rest of the story. Here’s a link to Part 1 and Part 2 of Meant To Be.)

The elevator ride to the bottom floor of the building was quick, allowing you to make your way to Garcia’s office in a matter of minutes. There was a plaque up next to the door, indicating that you were in the right place. Taking a moment to steady yourself you exhale before knocking on the door. A voice on the other side tells you to come in so you do. Around you are dozens of impressive looking monitors, all of which are doing something different. On top of the long L-shaped desk there were several small trinkets and toys, bringing a sort of life into the dark room. The woman sitting in front of you spins around in her chair to look at you, a quick flash of confusion on her face. She looks extremely kind and everything about her appearance makes you want to smile. 

“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. Are you Penelope Garcia?” 

“Yes, I am. What can I do for you?” Once you’re sure you’re in the right place you step forward to shake her hand. She stands so that you are both on the same level now, shifting awkwardly. 

“Sorry to barge in like this. Everything has gone pretty fast this morning. I’m a new agent for the BAU. Today is my first day. The rest of the team just left on a case and SSA Hotchner asked me to stay behind and help from here.” Her face lights up with a bright smile.

“Oh, that’s awesome! It’s really nice to meet you! Please come in, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” With this, she pulls another chair up to the desk and then sits back down in her own. “I didn’t actually know we had any new agents joining us. That being said, welcome! I’m almost always here by myself so the company will be nice. You and I can get to know each other.” You nod with a smile, watching her as she continues what she was doing. There are several different tabs open across the screens with loads of information that she seems to be compiling. When she sees your incredulous face she laughs.

“I know, it’s a lot. I’m just trying to get as much preliminary information as I can to send to the team. That’s what you’ll be helping me with. We collect research, data, important records. Anything they need to find out, we provide. Kind of cool, right?” Remaining silent, you nod. Upon seeing this, Garcia stops typing for a moment. “I know it may not seem as exciting as field work but it’s still very important. Don’t worry, I’ll make it fun. I promise you won’t be bored.” Patting your knee, she continues typing and you watch carefully now. This is where you will be until the case is over so you intend to make the absolute best of it. Everyone on the team has their own special skills and now is the time to learn from Garcia. 

“So what exactly are you looking for right now?” 

“I am compiling a list of the victim’s friends and family, plus witnesses from the robberies who might be able to give us any information. This will give the others a clear list of where to go first. I’m also seeing what I can find about the people who were at the banks on the days of the robberies in case there’s anything useful they need to know. Financial troubles, criminal records, anything to possibly link the witnesses to one another.” Scooting your chair forward so you can see better, you lean an elbow on the desk. 

“What can I help with?” You ask hopefully. 

“Oh, I think that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t even count on one hand how many times I’ve had someone down here and all they do is sit and look over my shoulder. Sorry, rambling. I can get you logged into a monitor here and it looks like the next thing on my list was looking into the victim’s workplace. Sound good?” 

“Yes, absolutely.” She moves over quickly and gets a separate monitor opened so you can begin researching. 

“We’ll probably do what research we can in the next twenty to thirty minutes and then we’ll call the team to tell them what we’ve found out.” With that, you make quick work of doing everything you can in the time you have. Even if it is the last thing you ever do, you will prove to Aaron Hotchner just how valuable a team member you are. 

++++++++++

The jet takes off fairly soon once the team is onboard. They all stow their go-bags and begin settling in for the flight. It is going to be a longer one today so they are all preparing themselves for the journey. Aaron finds a seat near a far window where he sets the case file down in front of himself and begins reading. His mind is swimming with thoughts and he will do anything to quiet them. The scene plays out over and over in his head, the memory still painfully fresh. Why had he said those things? He was unnecessarily harsh and he is fully aware of this. Now the first memory you’ll have of starting your dream job will be your new boss treating you appallingly. What had even compelled him to speak to you that way? Seeing you had overwhelmed him. The way you looked when you came into his office for the first time. The way your hair framed your face, the light hopefulness in your eyes, the way you captivated him with your movements. Standing there, just feet away from him, you had looked just as beautiful as the first day he met you. God, why did he lie like that? How could he have said he didn’t recognize you when you had stayed in his thoughts more times than he would like to admit over the past year? All the emotions he felt at the mere thought of you made him nauseous and he had no way of understanding them. As badly as he felt for it, he knew that for the time being it would be best to let you work from the BAU headquarters. 

“Hotch, are you okay?” JJ’s voice brings him quickly back to reality. The fact that she could see how deeply in thought he was makes him feel an odd sense of shame and he straightens in his seat. 

“Of course, I’m fine.” With this, she goes back to her own seat. With a huff of exhaustion, Hotch continues reading. The cabin is silent for a time as the other team members sit reading their case files. 

“So,” Morgan’s voice breaks the quiet. “What do we think of Y/N?” The mention of your name causes Hotch to perk up against his will. 

“Well, I like her.” Emily is the first to chime in. “I know you guys all got to meet her before me but there’s just something about her. An inherent sweetness. I’m really excited to work with her.” 

“Me, too,” JJ says next. “I thought she was kind and open. In this job, that kind of personality is hard to find. I just hope the things she sees doesn’t cause her to lose that. The world needs more kind people, not less. She seems tough though. I think she can handle it.” 

“I totally agree,” Morgan adds, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “She’s got a little bit of fierceness in her but I like that. You’ve gotta be tough to do this job but she’s also sweet. That’s important too. Plus, that kid’s got the cutest smile. Kind of reminds me of my sisters.” At the mention of your smile, Hotch closes his eyes briefly trying to picture that smile directed at him. He quickly catches himself and looks back down at the file. 

“Well, I can’t say I know her that well yet but she seems intelligent. She certainly has eagerness to learn. I think that will help her be successful. It’s very ... refreshing.” Spencer says with a small smile.

“I agree. Right off the bat she’s got a very likable energy,” Rossi begins letting himself trail off for a moment. “Although, I have to say there is something about her that is so familiar. I can’t quite place how I might know her though. Her name too, I recognize it. For a second I thought she recognized me too but I can’t be sure.” The rest of the team watches him for a moment as he tries to recollect how he knows you but he quickly comes up blank. “I’m sure I’ll think of it eventually. Nevertheless she seems like a good kid. I’m excited to see her at work. Just a shame we’ll all have to wait.” 

Hearing this Aaron shifts in his seat, knowing that the comment is directed at him since he was the one that made you stay behind. He is suddenly very aware of the other team members looking at him. 

“Yeah, Hotch. Why isn’t she here? I thought for sure you’d wanna see what she can do.” Derek locks eyes with Aaron, causing him to debate how to answer the question. All his life Hotch has worked to control his feelings and the way that they manifest so his face remains expressionless as he thinks for a short second.

“I think that for right now her time would be better spent helping Garcia and getting used to her new environment. I agree that she does seem very intelligent and more than capable. I would just like to speak with her one on one first before thrusting her into the high intensity atmosphere that comes with our line of work.” However, this answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Morgan’s curiosity. 

“She told me when she came out of your office that you said you didn’t remember her. Is that true?” This continued line of questioning makes his blood begin to boil. Aaron Hotchner of all people knows that lies are what cause the foundations of trust to crumble. If he can’t be honest with himself, how can he expect to be honest with his team? And yet, he finds himself unable to expose his own misdeed. 

“Yes, that is correct. We’ve had a lot of cases come and go in the last few years and no one should be expected to remember every interaction they have in that length of time. According to her it was only one day and it was a long time ago at that. I apologized to her and she understood. That is the end of it.” 

“Look, I’m not passing judgement Hotch. I’m just saying I can understand why she was so hurt,” Hearing this causes his heart to clench. “She looks up to you. She didn’t even have to tell me that, I could just see it. You mentored her in a time that was very uncertain, when she had a lot to prove. She still has a lot to prove and I’m sure she thought that you would have her back and the first thing you tell her is that you don’t even remember who she is? I get it man, you’re under a lot of stress right now but she’s a part of your team. I just thought you of all people would be a little more sensitive than that.” 

His words cut right through Aaron’s heart like a knife but before he has a chance to say anything the laptop screen in the center of the cabin lights up, revealing you and Garcia. Glad for a break from the tension the rest of the team members look toward the screen. With one last glance at Morgan, Hotch leans towards him. “We will discuss this later.” His voice is firm and dangerous but he pulls away to look at the laptop. “What did you find?” He directs at the two of you.

Seeing him causes you to straighten in your seat as you ready yourself to put on your most professional face. Garcia begins telling everyone what she was able to find out about the victim. She has significantly more information than you do but once she’s done she allows you to share what you found. The victim worked at a local grocery store but he had been previously employed at the bank where the robbery took place. The team begin building a rough profile based on the information. You listen closely to their analysis of the unsubs, making mental notes on what you might add to the profile. Before you have a chance to add anything, Hotch thanks the two of you for your work and hangs up. For a moment, you could swear you saw a hint of sadness when he looked at you but you were sure it was just a glitch on the screen. 

“Sorry sweetpea. I could totally tell you wanted to add something. They can be pretty abrupt like that sometimes.” You simply give a small shrug. “Well, why don’t you tell me what it was? It’ll give you a little practice for building profiles.” She scoots to the edge of her chair, looking at you intently to which you give a small laugh.

“Well, as we know all of the unsubs are large burly men. The five of them could easily subdue the few weaker people that were present at each of the robberies and yet they chose to bring guns. I believe this shows that they feel a certain sense of inadequacy in their everyday lives. Despite their masculine appearance I would suspect they all have mediocre jobs where they are looked down upon or treated poorly. It’s possible that they all work at the same place but I would imagine they probably met somewhere else. Maybe a support group of some sort. The use of weapons gives them a sense of power over the victims that helps them live out their mass fantasy. The victim of the last crime scene was shot in the head which indicates some personal relationship between him and the unsub who pulled the trigger. That could be a good place to start.” 

“Well, it definitely makes sense to me. Maybe we can start looking in to possible support groups for these type of men. Oh, and anyone that might possibly have had reason to kill our victim.” Garcia immediately begins typing and you scoot closer to her side. 

“Shouldn’t we wait for the order from Hotch?” She laughs at this. 

“Trust me, sweetheart. At the end of the day he’s gonna thank us for the head start. One thing to know about the boss man. He likes to see initiative but he also wants you to follow his exact orders. It’s a fine balance but once you figure out how to work the line, he’s gonna love you for it.” The thought of Hotch loving you for anything at all in the world makes your heart flutter. Almost instantly you stop that train of thought and berate yourself for even entertaining it. 

“Well, I guess we better get started then.” The rest of the day goes smoothly. You and Garcia coordinate everything beautifully, finding a good amount of information that you save to send to Hotch at the most convenient time. The day seems to be over almost as quickly as it began and you thank Garcia before heading out to your car. The drive home seems to be much more monotonous than before. It seems like you’re back inside your apartment and stretched out on the couch before you can hardly blink. Rolling over, you reach for your phone which you had thrown on the coffee table. With a groan, you begin dialing your sister’s number. As much as today sucked there was no one in the world you’d rather vent to than your sister. 

“Well hey there babe. I’ve been patiently awaiting your call. Give me just a minute to get sat down. I want to hear every last detail.” There are sounds of shuffling on the other side of the phone as she finds a seat. “Okay, I’m all good. Now, tell me about your first day at the BAU! Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” 

“Yeah, not exactly,” You laugh. “It was kind of rough to be honest.” There is a moment of silence as you think how to begin.

“Okay. Start at the beginning, walk me through it.” 

“Alright. Well, I got inside and I was honestly just in awe of being there, just getting to stand in that room. It felt like I was invincible. Derek Morgan was the first one to talk to me. He was just as charming as I remembered. Anyway, he introduced me to the rest of the team and we got to talk for a bit which was really nice, you know? From the get go I really felt like part of the team.” 

“Now you know I hate to interrupt but all of this sounds great!” 

“Yeah, well, that was the best part of the day and it didn’t last very long. After I met everyone I went up to Aaron Hotchner’s office to give him my paperwork. I’m sure you know by now that I was pretty excited to see him again, right? Well, when I told him how excited I was to be working with him again he told me that he didn’t actually know who I was. He completely forgot about me. I mean, I guess I get it. It’s been a year and a half and he meets a lot of people. Why would he remember me specifically?”

“Y/N, don’t invalidate your own feelings. What he said upset you and it’s okay to be hurt. That would have hurt my feelings too. You’re a really great person and he sucks for not thinking about you ever since he met you.” Hearing this, you can’t help but laugh a bit. Her ability to defend you no matter what always cheers you up. 

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I just wish he thought the same. Anyway, I gave him my paperwork so I could travel with the team. They got a case this morning and I was planning to go with them but for some reason Hotch made me stay behind even though I am cleared to be in the field. It just really bummed me out because I was super ready to get out there and start working but I got benched for my very first case. He had me stay with this girl named Garcia, she’s the team’s technical analyst. I mean, she’s really sweet and we worked super well together but I just wish I could have been out there doing the things that I spent seven years of my life training for.” 

“I am so sorry. That sucks. I know how excited you were. Look at the bright side, this is only your first case. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get out there and prove yourself. It’s all gonna work out.” Unable to keep from smiling, you roll over on your side. 

“Thanks. I really hope you’re right.” Sensing the fact that you’re still upset she decides to help by changing the subject. 

“So, who all did you meet today? I know you already knew a few of the team members but was there anybody new?” 

“Yeah, Elle and Gideon are no longer there. I’m really sad I missed getting to work with them but the people I met seem really amazing. The first girl I met was named Emily Prentiss. She was really nice. The other was a guy named David Rossi.” When you finish your sentence there is nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. You wait a minute for your sister’s response but there is nothing. Before you can ask what’s wrong she chimes in again. 

“Did you say David Rossi?” There is a tone in her voice that you don’t recognize and it causes concern to stir in your stomach. 

“Yeah, why? What’s up?” There is another moment of silence. 

“It’s -- it’s nothing. I shouldn’t bring it up. You’ve already had a rough day.” As if she can sense your anxiety she continues. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I promise I’ll tell you later, okay? I just don’t think we should talk about it right now, that’s all.” As much as you want to pry you can tell that no matter how much you ask, you’re not getting the answer out of her. With a sense of unease you agree and try changing the conversation again. Once you’ve changed the topic to something other than work you can feel her ease again and the two of you talk for nearly 45 minutes. After a while you decide to call it a night and shortly afterwards you find yourself in bed. You hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were until your head hit the pillow. Your sleep is dreamless which you decide in the morning is probably a good thing. 

++++++++++

The remainder of the case is spent hunkered down in Garcia’s office either doing frantic research or simply getting to know one another. In just a short while the two of you become very fast friends. You realize quickly that you share a lot of common interests and all of your conversations are endlessly fascinating. It also doesn’t take you very long to realize that you actually enjoy the work that you do with her. There is quite a bit of skill required to dig as deeply and accurately as the two of you do. It is a race against the clock to find everything you need in order to help the team and there is a certain level of excitement that comes with that. Of course you still wish you were out in the field but in the end you learn a lot and make a good friend along the way. The case ends rather succinctly with all five unsubs found and arrested with no more casualties along the way. It’s a good feeling, knowing that you helped to catch the bad guys and no one had to die for you to do so. The day the team is set to return you and Garcia head out for coffee before they show up, figuring that you deserve a little treat after all of your hard work. You make light conversation as you make your way back into the building just in time for the team to arrive. You watch them each make their way to their desks, setting down their bags and taking a moment to rest. Of course the last one to walk in is Hotch who heads straight up to his office, shutting the door behind him. 

When you feel like it’s an appropriate time you make your way over to Morgan’s desk. Upon seeing you his lips crack into a wide smile. 

“Well hey sweetheart! I have to say, you did awesome work on this case.” As he says this, he extends his hand for a high five which you quickly grant him. “I know it wasn’t easy having to sit out but you did great. I’m proud of you.” It takes everything in you not to blush. 

“Thanks. I learned a lot and I made a good friend along the way.”

“Yeah, Garcia’s pretty great isn’t she?” He says with a knowing smile.

“She definitely is. She talks about you a lot, you know.” 

“Oh, I know. Baby girl just can’t stop thinking about me. Not that I blame her, of course.” At this you lightly punch his arm. 

“You are both such teases.” This makes Morgan laugh. 

“We gotta keep things interesting.” He leans forward as though he’s about to start his paperwork but he quickly leans back to look at you. “Hey, now that I’m back we gotta go out for drinks tonight. Everyone else is already game so long as you are.” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You confirm with a grin.

“Great. You know, I’d say I’m buying but I kind of feel like you owe me.” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, I was trying to get some answers for you so I asked Hotch why he wouldn’t let you on the case and he royally chewed me out for it. In his defense I probably shouldn’t have asked in front of the rest of the team but that decision still just doesn’t sit right with me.” Morgan’s words mingle in your head. It doesn’t sit right with you either but it isn’t really your place to question your boss’ orders. 

“I’m sorry he got upset with you. I do appreciate you defending me though. You’re my knight in shining denim.”

“Anytime kid. I’m happy to help.” Getting to talk to Morgan has almost instantly lifted your spirits. However, it doesn’t take long for your heart to drop into your stomach. 

“Agent L/N. May I speak to you in my office please?” You hadn’t even noticed that Hotch had come out of his office until his voice drew your attention to him. With a quick look at Morgan, who gives you a reassuring glance, you push yourself off his desk and make your way over to where Hotch is standing. Once you’re at his side he extends a hand, allowing you to step inside first. He follows quickly, shutting the door behind him. “Please, have a seat.” He says, gesturing towards a leather couch on the far wall. As you begin to sit on one end he takes up residence on the other, his knee just inches away from yours. Once you’re both settled he focuses all of his attention on you. He doesn’t seem angry but you aren’t holding your breath. It’s best to just stay professional and speak with him earnestly. 

“I’m glad to see you all back safely sir.” You begin. After the stress of the case, you want to make sure he knows that as hurt as you were by his previous decision you harbor no ill will towards him. 

“Thank you. It’s not very often that cases end as well as this one did. You understand that, don’t you? This was a special circumstance.” 

“Yes, I realize that. I’m just grateful that it did end happily even if it was just this once.” There is an intensity in the way he watches you.

“Good. I just want to make sure you fully know what to expect.” 

“I do sir. I did the day that I applied for school. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Staying silent for a moment he nods as if in thought. 

“I know before I left I said we would be able to talk. I’d like to learn a little bit more about you and from there I’ll be able to evaluate your abilities before taking you into the field. I know it wasn’t the decision you were hoping for but I hope you understand it nonetheless.”

“Of course. It’s not my place to question you and in the end I learned a lot from Garcia. Plus she was nice to work with.” 

“Good. I’m very glad to hear that you were able to make the most of the situation.” He stops for a moment, his gaze relaxing. “I wanted to tell you how well you did on this case. A challenge was presented to you and you handled it with grace. The information you provided was incredibly helpful and your suggestions were very well thought out. I was very impressed.” The softness in his eyes as he praises you leaves a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Throughout the entirety of the case you had been so hell bent on proving yourself to him and hearing him say that you had done well made every hour of hard work worth it. As much as your heart is singing you have to remind yourself to be calm. Even though he is being kind to you now, he had made his feelings known to you during your first meeting. There is no reason to read into things. Clearly he doesn’t feel what you feel. 

“Thank you sir. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when I was left behind but I realized that I’m grateful to be here no matter what. I worked really hard to get here, to be doing this kind of work, and not everyone gets the chance to do what they’re truly meant to be doing. As heartbreaking as the outcome of this job usually is, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.” With every word the two of you are locked into one another’s eyes. For a moment you can almost swear he is holding his breath. 

“I appreciate that sense of purpose. I will always support my team but it makes it easier with members who are invested.” 

“I am. Completely. I’m here. I know you haven’t gotten a real chance to see me work but please know that my heart is in this.” 

“That was never in question,” Hotch pauses, letting his eyes fall to his lap as he considers his next sentence. “I believe now that I made a rash decision in asking you to stay behind. I can see that you are mentally prepared to be in the field. I apologize for my harsh words. I of course can’t say anything for your physical performance yet but I won’t be able to evaluate the full extent of your abilities until I am able to watch you in the field. On the next case I would like you to join the rest of the team.” A breath of relief leaves your lips.

“Of course. I’m ready to get to work.”

“I know. You’ll have the chance soon enough. In the meantime, if you have any questions or concerns feel free to come speak with me.” 

“Thank you sir.” Hotch simply nods in response, beginning to stand. You follow his actions, gathering that he is done with the conversation. As you make your way to the door, feeling much lighter than when you came in, he stops you.

“Agent L/N,” The sound of his voice causes you to turn back. “I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry for not remembering you. I never meant to hurt you. It isn’t that you were forgettable. It’s just that a lot has happened in the last year.” This apology seems much more heartfelt than before and you try to hide a smile. 

“I forgive you, sir.” With that you take your leave, making your way right back to Morgan’s desk. The shift in your mood must be palpable because he looks up at you with a smile.

“That’s not the face of someone that just got yelled at by Hotch.” 

“No, no he didn’t yell at me. He was just telling me I did a good job and he cleared me to work in the field on the next case.” 

“Good for you, kid. I’m glad we’re finally gonna get a chance to see what you can really do,” Nodding you rest against the edge of his desk again. “Now, see? That wasn’t too bad was it?” Looking back towards Hotch’s office you can see him bent over his desk, filling out paperwork. Being able to watch him for a moment without fear of falling apart allows you to crack a small smile.

“No. I guess it wasn’t.” 

Tags:  @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ssahotchie @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711​ @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester  @hotch-stufff @annadorothxa @canadailluminate @yoshigguk @gothicxbarbie @romanogersendgame​​

[leah-bobeea]

Magazine Girl; Steve Rogers

You ever start writing a fic about a journalist reader at two am who’s eventually gonna end up doing steeb, over his desk, biting down on his expensive leather belt?

❀ ❀ ❀

Warnings: CEO!Steve x Journalist!Reader, Angst, Steve’s a little mean, Bossy Steve, Shy/Anxious reader, Dom!steve, mentions spanking, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, coercion (a little teensy bit), Bad writing lol

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Terrible writing w/ a terribly rushed ending. Written on my phone, in my notes app, not beta read, and barely proofread.

❀ ❀ ❀

Yes, your hands were busy. Not busy typing out a rough draft of this stupid article on Steve Rogers, not busy calling his secretary to set up a meeting with the man, or the closest to him you could get, not busy doing their job at all. They were busy tapping your pen against the glass tabletop of your desk, successfully annoying Wanda, who sent you an aggravated look from across the room.

“Seriously, Y/n?” Wanda moved from where she was at her desk, clearly not making a breakthrough on her article for this month's issue either. You could only shake your head in reply. Throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling, you starting explaining. “Maria gave me this huge article, Wanda. Cover! And, trust me, I know she’s testing me and doesn’t think I’ll actually be able to do it so she can fire me, or belittle me, or- or something! I don’t know what to do, help me, bestie.” As you finished rambling you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, hoping for some of that amazing advice she gives.

Wanda laughed and pulled a chair over from an empty desk, sitting down and haphazardly throwing her feet on top of your cluttered tabletop. “She wouldn’t give you an article you couldn’t handle, she loves you, Y/n. If it’s truly as difficult as you’re making it out as that means that she knows you’re ready for it, and you’ll do amazing. Who’s it on anyway?”

She was doing such a good job at easing your nerves until she brought up the topic. You whined high in your throat and threw your head to the side before uttering, “Steven Rogers,” you turned your body back to Wanda, “What more do I need to say?” Her eyes widened just a little. “Sheesh...I’d start making phone calls, and praying, maybe?”

❀ ❀ ❀

“Hello, Miss. Carter, um- this is Y/n L/n with Shield Mag-“ “Please hold, dear.”

You pulled the phone away from your head and let it rest on your naked thigh, quickly pressing the speaker button. It was times like this when you were grateful that you let your grandma convince you to buy a house phone. Peggy Carter was the fifth person you’d contacted trying to get an interview with this man and she was the second lady that humored you enough to at least pretend like she’d get back to you.

She’s his main assistant so you might have better luck this time...

Thirty minutes later you had your head inches off the ground and your toes wiggling in the air. Humming the annoying hold music to yourself, you braided, unbraided, and re-braided a single strand of your hair. At thirty-nine minutes you were ready to give up until you heard a click on the other line.

You scrambled to turn off the speaker and press the phone back to your ear.

“Miss. Carter I was hoping to set up an interview with Mr. Rogers, over the phone, in person, or through email, if that’s possible?” You asked, hopeful that she wouldn’t shoot you down immediately like everyone else.

“Well, Magazine Girl, I only do in person. But I am a very busy man, so I need to know right away, what’s in it for me?” Your breath hitched and you almost fell and cracked your head open from how startled hearing his voice made you. Then, you nearly gave yourself a head rush from how fast you sat up.

“Well, um, Sir, you would get a headlining article, and uh, a cover on the June issue of Shield Magazine. That’s um, that’s if you want a cover- you don’t have to be on the cover if you don’t want to, just the interview would be mentioned on the cover, but-“ His chuckle was gritty and vivid, effective in stopping your babble. “I’ll see you Friday around noon. Goodbye Magazine Girl.” He hung up on you before you could even comprehend anything but that captivating laugh.

You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed your planner and pen. “Friday at noon...”

❀ ❀ ❀

The next day you were back in the office, sitting in Wanda’s stiff chair with twin caramel lattes sitting in front of you. That was the thing about you, you’d come to work early bearing gifts just to tell your closest friend your good news. You’re sweet like that.

When Wanda arrived it was fifteen minutes later and your latte was halfway gone. Hearing her black stilettos click on the glossy linoleum made you perk up immediately. As she approached, you stood, handing her the latte and wrapping your arms around her lithe body.

“I got an interview!” You squealed, rocking your bodies side to side. She stilled you and smiled. “Gosh, that’s great, Y/n. How’d you get it?”

“Well, I called, like everyone, and he picked up, Wanda! he picked up! I’m scheduled for Friday, and my Lord, Wanda, his laugh, it's like honey...” You trailed off, sighing at the thought of him. Your head was rested on her shoulder, a faint smile on your face. “You’ve got a crush on him!” Wanda exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and holding you an arm's length away to get a good look at your bashful face.

You gasped, “No I do not! That would be totally unprofessional!” The cackle that erupted from her made her sound like the wicked witch of the west. And honestly, under her stare, you felt like Dorothy stuck under that house.

When Wanda was finally done laughing maliciously she let you go, plopping down in her desk chair and sipping her latte. She pointed over and your desk and gave you a look. “Better start drafting those questions... we wouldn’t want you to blank on your crush.” “Wanda!”

❀ ❀ ❀

The days leading up to Friday were excruciatingly long, yet the hours until twelve flew past all too quickly.

It seemed as if your wardrobe was never ending, full of clothes that you deemed inappropriate for a meeting with the CEO of American Enterprises. You threw yourself back onto the bed, hair and makeup done but body still wrapped in a fluffy white towel. “Oh Milky, what am I gonna wear?” The soft white kitty glared at you from the pillow she was perched on, meowing at you aggressively.

Ten thirty blinked on the clock and you sat up, glancing at all of the clothes that were scattered on the floor. “I guess this will do.” You picked up the same emerald blazer you had chosen originally and layered it over some basic Levi’s, and gray low cut blouse flowing over your form. A belt was necessary, so you grazed over your options. Brown wouldn’t go, even though it was your only fancy belt. The only black one you had was old, the leather cracked and worn, but it had to do. You slipped on some pretty black heels, lucky that you painted your toes a similar color to your blouse. After accessorizing you sprayed your signature perfume, the one that got you your first college-aged boyfriend, and the same one that you were wearing when you got your first real job.

By the time you were on the Metro, it was eleven o’ six, and you were worried. If you were late you’d lose this chance, and probably your job. The car stopped around eleven fifteen, giving you fifteen minutes to make your way to the building, check-in, and try to not seem so nervous.

Finding the building wasn’t difficult at all, after all, it is the second biggest building in New York City, competing with Stark Tower. The “A” at the top wasn’t illuminated, but it still stood out against the other buildings, cowering over them.

You found that the doors were heavy and if you denied Wanda of going to those burn boot camps you would have extreme difficulty prying them open. The inside was classy, just as you expected. The lamps had blue shades and the front desk lit up with a design that resembled the American Flag, but with less curved stripes and only one large star.

The receptionist was one of the women who shot you down immediately when you called and was a little surprised when you checked in. “Hello, I’m here for Mr. Rogers, twelve o’clock?” She searched for something on her computer, clearly trying to see if the appointment was legitimate. When you were proven correct, she handed you a temporary security badge and a sharpie to write your name on it. “Have a seat over there when you’re finished. I’ll call for you when Mr. Rogers is ready for you.” She smiled, it was fake, but it helped you feel more comfortable.

The red couch was stiff and small, clearly not meant for long periods of sitting. The badge was clipped onto your blouse, not your blazer, and the weight of it was pulling at the already low cut neckline. You thought about moving it, but your attention was quickly turned to the coffee table, where your magazine sat, opened to an article you wrote. Your hands were a little shaky as you went to close the magazine, but you were interrupted before you could grasp the bent pages.

“Miss. Y/n? Mr. Rogers is ready for your interview. Head up to floor thirty six, the door on the right.” Miss receptionist sounded bored, her eyes never left the monitor in front of her. “Thanks.”

Some of the others in the waiting area looked up to you after hearing where you were going, causing you to blush.

You felt lucky to get the elevator to yourself. Thirty-six floors is a long way to go, yet you got there in under three. In the elevator you adjusted your outfit and flattened your hair, hoping it wasn’t frizzy.

The door on the right was clearly not just a meeting room but an office, which you thought was odd. You also found it odd that no one was in the room, you expected to at least be met with his assistant or secretary, if not Steve himself.

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure it was completely empty before taking a seat on the leather chair on the opposite side of the big desk. You opened your notebook and got out your lucky rooster pen before going over your questions once again, hoping he didn’t think they were stupid.

You waited fifteen minutes for him, growing increasingly irked as the minutes built up. When he walked through the door you felt like your heart stopped.

Six-four build covered in a black suit and tie, white undershirt pristine. Blonde hair disheveled and a perfectly manicured beard. The door slammed shut and you heard the clinking sound of a glass being set down. Steve lifted his head and you snapped yours to the front, hoping he didn’t catch you checking him out.

The room was silent besides a rustling coming from behind you. You busied yourself with your notebook, highlighting the questions you wanted to ask most.

“You’re a very patient girl.” He observed. Steve made you wait on purpose. He knew from the first person you called that you wanted an interview, he was friends with Maria Hill after all. But he wanted some entertainment, and after looking into you, he knew you were the right girl. So far he’s made you wait an hour and fourteen minutes for just a smidge of his attention.

“Yes, Sir.” You mumbled, accidentally stopping the highlighter too soon, pressing it down, and letting the pink ink bleed to the next page. He hummed in approval as he rounded the corner, drink in his hand, coat jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, first couple buttons loose. Finally, Steve sat in the big chair, keeping eye contact with you as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the mahogany table.

“Give me that.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement, “What?” You asked, putting your pen down on your lap. Steve motioned for your notebook, and you opened your mouth, starting to stumble over your words. “Oh? um- Okay?” You handed it over to him and he relaxed back into his chair. A question bubbled in your throat, but you didn’t let it escape. Instead, you watched as his eyes scanned the papers, blue cursive, and pink highlighter, little stars and flowers drawn in the corners. “Mr. Rogers, are you ready to start the interview?” You tapped your watch, twelve twenty four.

He nodded, “Yes, I’m ready.” You cleared your throat and went to ask for your notebook, but he beat you to it. “Miss. L/n, is there an achievement or something that you’ve contributed to me that you are most proud of?” Why was he asking you your own questions? “Sir, I-“ He cut you off once again. “Answer the question, doll.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I- um, no. I haven’t contributed anything to you that I should be proud of, Sir.”

“Is there a particular moment or memory of building this relationship that stands out to you?” He continued with the questions, tilting his head to the side. Why was he twisting the questions onto you? When you didn’t come up with an answer he chuckled, sounding sickly sweet like molasses dripping straight from the sugarcane. “Patience finally wearing thin, honey?” You nodded eyes staring at his chest, you couldn’t quite muster up the courage to look him in the eye.

He snapped your notebook closed and slid it towards your side of the grand desk. “You couldn’t answer my questions correctly, Y/n.” You nodded, eyes now downcast, admiring the pattern on the blue carpet. You felt like you were going to cry. This big scary man was mean and just wouldn’t let you conduct your interview and you didn’t know why. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I know you are, doll. But, if you can’t answer my questions how can I answer yours? You have nothing to offer me.” This was it, you were losing your chance. “Business wise, that is.” Your head shook, and your hands were clasped together, your left thumb rubbing your right nail back and forth. “I don’t understand, Sir.”

“I’m friends with Maria, Y/n. If you’re able to get this article done and get me on the cover you’re gonna get a promotion, you want that, right doll?” Your eyes went wide, “Yes, Sir.” Now, he stood, coming around to the front where you are and leaning against the desk. “She said to make it difficult, but I don’t care enough to do all that. So, doll, I’ll answer your questions. They’re quite good actually. And I’ll do a little photoshoot for the cover, but you’ll need to pay me back.” You gulped, hands suddenly sweaty, you felt like a little chihuahua, trembling under his gaze.

“How? Um, how do I pay you?” Gosh, even your voice was shaky. “Stand up. Lose the blazer.” Steve commanded, slowly unbuckling his belt. You could faintly tell from the buckle that it was Hermès. You stood and took off your blazer in a rush, folding it poorly and setting it on the arm of the chair. “Atta girl.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and then ran them down to your hands, giving them a little squeeze before he hooked his index fingers into your belt loops, pulling you closer. So close that the tips of your shoes were touching. He leaned down to kiss your neck and you stiffened, but when he grazed his teeth over the bruised spot he just created you melted into him, your hands grasping at the pristine white button up, letting out a little whimper.

Steve pushed you back a little and took in your form, then he pulled the little security badge off, tossing it to the side. Like a little kid, he pulled at the neckline of your shirt. “Off.” You would’ve giggled at him if he didn’t look so scary right now. His blue eyes were piercing into yours, left hand so tight on your hip you thought he might leave bruises.

By the time your shirt hit the floor, he was pushing at your shoulders, hinting at you to go to your knees. “Sir, I don’t know-“

You started, knees hitting the carpet underneath you. He shushed you and guided your head to look up at him. “It's okay, baby, you don’t have to know how. I’ll do all the work, doll. Now, undo your bra.” As expected you did as he asked immediately, fumbling with the clasp until it fell down your arms. It ended up next to your thigh as you watched him pull his belt through the loops.

Steve walked around you and kneeled down, belt in his hands. “Put your hands behind your back.” You nodded immediately, so submissive, completely at his mercy. “Yes, Sir.” Steve loved how polite you were. He made quick work of restraining you, tying your hands to rest against your jean clad ass. The metal felt harsh against your skin and the soft, expensive leather snaked up your arms.

When he was back in front of you he sighed and shook his head. “I should’ve had you unzip me first.” Hearing Steve say that finally brought you to the reality of what was about to happen. You watched with big eyes as he undid the button and then the zipper, the sound making you tremble. His dress pants puddled on the floor and you were in awe as he massaged his bulge through his boxers. Slowly, he pulled them down to the middle of his thighs. His cock bounced up to hit his abdomen and he hissed as he stroked it a few times. “Open as wide as you can, honey.”

As always, you did as asked. Your tongue stuck out a little, wetting your bottom lip. He grasped the back of your head and leaned you forward a little, then you felt his blunt tip on your tongue. You gagged and spluttered when Steve was about halfway seated, he pulled out and leaned down, kissing you sloppily. “Breathe through your nose, baby. Don’t forget.” Then he was back at slowly entering your throat. “Fuck...” he grunted, finally fully seated in your throat, your nose pressed against his nicely groomed pubic hair. He caressed your throat then, rubbing the bulge in your throat, resisting the urge to press down and have you choke on his cock even more. “So good, Y/n.”

Steve started rocking into your throat, slowly fucking it as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth. After minutes of abusing your throat, he finally pulled out, adoring the way tears ran down your cheeks and how you hiccupped, wanting to desperately rub at your raw throat to soothe it. Your hands pulled at the belt and your eyes begged Steve to undo it. “Up, doll.”

He hoisted you up from your armpits and bent you over the desk. Steve pressed kisses down your back and reached in front of you, unbuckling your belt and throwing it somewhere to the left of you, then he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, tugging them down with fervor.

Steve undid your restraints and left more kisses down your back until he reached your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your tight hole and glistening cunt. “I’d love to see this ass all bruised and red, but I’ll have to save that for another day.” His index and middle finger ran circles on your clit, your back arching to press into him more. “Sir, please!” You gasped, your hand flying out to the edge of the table and nearly knocking over the glass of whiskey he left on a coaster when Steve finally pushed two fingers into your aching hole.

“Gotta open you up first, doll, get you all sloppy and ready for my cock.” You cried out as he hooked his fingers, rubbing the magic spot inside of you. “Please, Steve, please.” He cooed at you, pulling his fingers out, and instead traced his name over your clit. “You gonna come, baby? Huh? You gonna drench my fingers, little girl?” You were moaning in wanton, hips humping his hand desperately. He brought his other hand down and started fingerfucking you again, giving you just enough to push you over the edge.

Your moans were breathy, your legs twitching, and you were panting by the time your orgasm faded. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet, doll, I still haven’t come inside you.” That made you whine high in your throat and you tried, to no avail, to slam your legs shut around his hand.

Steve’s right hand fisted his cock a few times, making sure he’s rock hard and dripping with pre-cum, while his left kept your lips spread, showing him your gorgeous pussy. The blunt head at your entrance shocked you, and you yelped at the intrusion. “Sir!”

He leaned his head down and spit where you were joined, trying to make the glide even easier. “Shut up, doll.” He snapped after you cried out. Once he was as deep as possible inside of you he reached for his belt, looping it over as if he was going to spank you, and stuffed it into your mouth. “Bite down,” Steve demanded, a hand snaked around to the front of your neck where he was applying light pressure.

When you tried to push back against him he held your hips down against the wood steadily and started snapping his hips at a fast speed. Each thrust pushed you down onto the table, letting your clit rub against the mahogany wood.

Your vision felt spacey like you could black out any moment as he choked you. Your orgasm washed over you and you had to use all the strength you had in you to keep biting down on the belt. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed his and let it go. Steve’s hips harshly snapped against your ass a few more times before he stilled inside of you, filling you with his spunk.

Before Steve cleaned you up and let you leave his office he had to finger his cum back inside of you, making sure none of it went to waste. Then, he made sure you had a way home, and a way to contact him, because, “Now you’re no longer Magazine Girl, but My Girl.”

@lo-bells

[twsted-simp-writer]

Hello and welcome back! May I request hcs for dormleaders with a s/o who wears shades a lot till' they found out that everyone in their middle school wanted to gouge their beautiful eyes out beacuse some are jealous or wanting to sell it to the market? Thank u!

(Yes I am referencing the eys from Gojo from JJK)

I haven't really watched Jujutsu Kaisen (tho I watched sukuna and gojo scenes in YT) but I already know Gojo and Sukuna, seeing the thirst tweets on Twitter back then. I plan on watching it once it's totally finished. (But seriously Gojo’s eyes are so pretty) Thank you for the request and I hope you like this!~

Dorm Leader Headcanons

Riddle Rosehearts

He'll had to admit. The first time he met you, he almost chop off your head for wearing those shades all day. Even at night, much to his utter disbelief. Being the strict abide-to-the-rules person he was back then, he ordered you to take them off. Seeing those eyes had startled him for dear life.

This was the time he finds out everything you've been through because of those eyes. Constantly in danger for people in your school who might possibly attack you. The redhead was upset as you predicted. You further explained more about your eyes and how those shades affect your vision.

Riddle quietly observed you. How come you are so strong despite all the pain you have been through? The redhead held your hands and pecked your lips.

Even himself was flustered with his own actions, he wasn't really good at expressing his feelings for you but he'll try his best. Seeing how he was doing his own way of comforting someone, you giggled at the cuteness of your boyfriend.

"I'm not strong physically but with my magic, I'll make sure those who have ill intensions towards you will have their heads cut off."

Leona Kingscholar

This lion never spoke a word about it as he respects your space. Until you decided to open it up to him. That sunglasses didn't really bothered him the slightest except when he discovered you even wear it in the dark especially at night much to his chagrin.

Can you even see in that especially in the dark? He'll just huff at the idea that popped in his mind. It is definitely impossible for a human like you to see clearly in the dark.

When he thought you were just an odd herbivore, he was taken aback when you suddenly opened up your past and explained more about your eyes.  Both of you were lying down his bed cuddling, when he crawled atop of you stopping you from your story.

As he held your face, both staring into each others eyes for a moment. Leona's face was blank yet so many emotions are going through his eyes. Yet you recognize anger, worry and fear. Knowing many thoughts were running in his head, you lean your face close and your lips met with his and that calm his mind. Leona's body became relaxed as he bury his face to the side of your neck.

"I may not always be beside you, but just call my name. I'll be sure to be there."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul merely shook his head at how violent land dwellers were. He have heard stories of how humans can be cruel ever since he was small. But to think you were a target just because of your eyes is what made him distraught. Your boyfriend silently hugged you from behind as he thought of the possibilities of you being targeted once more but here in Twisted-Wonderland.

He would suggest you to have a contract with him to hide the true appearance of your eyes. In exchange of it, you will have to spend your entire life with him. He offered this, his cheeks bright pink and shaky voice.

You let a little laugh at what your lover what implying. Pecking his lips, you held his hands and stare at his bluish-gray eyes.

"Darling, I would love the thought but that will not change the effect of how I see the world. I would also love to spend the rest of my life with you but marriage can wait."

Azul had a huge smile as he peppered your neck with kisses. If ever someone planned on laying a hand on you, your lover will certainly pay them a visit with the twins. In the end, he would suggest to you to atleast have Jade and Floyd near you at all times to which you rejected.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim would be that type of person who is very vocal of things. He would bug you about why you wore shades all the time. Upon catching a glimpse of your eyes, he was stunned. This soft boy loves complimenting your eyes despite not knowing the story behind those. Learning how others wanted to take your eyes just for their own benefit or out of jealousy, he'll shower you with lots of attention and affection.

Kalim is the type of person who'll empathize with someone who has experience things he himself didn't.  He'll even apologize even if it wasn't his fault.

This boy would even cry for you which made you comfort him and tell he shouldn't feel responsible.  There were times you thought he was too good that others may use this against him.

The next day,  a stressed out Jamil will approach you to question why Kalim suddenly wanted to buy lots of shades. Hearing this you immediately run to find your boyfriend to stop him.

"They say jewels and gold are have far more worth but for me, your worth is more that those things."

Vil Schoenheit

Vil thought those shades was just part of your fashion and it looked good on you. It may have startled him before, that you wore it the whole time until Rook pointed it out to him.

He loves putting different shades of eyeshadows that compliments your eyes. It didn't help that your boyfriend will stare heatedly at yours, making you feel shy.

After hearing what you've been though back in your world, he understood how it is to be envied by others for something they don't have nor feel threatened by someone. But to the point of wanting their eyes out of jealousy or to sell them?

The thought of his s/o being in danger back then all because of their eyes, he felt sick and disgusted. Who in the world would gouge out someone's eyes? (cougheyesonmecough). Vil would then press on to know if there are ever people following you lately. To which you reassured no one was.

Also being aware on how the sunglasses affects your vision, your lover made sure to tag you along to buy different kinds that will fit to your outfits. You just let yourself be dragged by your boyfriend seeing how fired up he was when it comes to fashion and makeup.

Idia Shroud

At the beginning, Idia was creeped out when you wore shades all the time. Be it during History class, Physical Education, even Alchemy (much to Crewel's dismay).  Upon discovering your eyes, he was fascinated by them.

When he find out how people back in your middle school wanted your eyes just to sell them for their own profit made this lovable boyfriend of yours speechless at human greed. He would literally made a special glasses just to hide your unique eyes.

A small part of him was guilty that he felt like he didn't deserve someone like you. But hearing your story, a surge of determination overcame him.

You tried to convince him that he doesn't need to build one for him, but he was already gone by the time Ortho told you.

Much to your surprise, the glasses let you see normally than you usually would whenever you don't have your shades.

Idia would explain to you the other functions it can do and the precautions. He even handed you the contacts just in case. Moved by the efforts of your usual gloomy boyfriend who is now , you happily kissed your boyfriend who suddenly turned into a blabbering mess at the sudden kiss.

"I may not be so reliable but I'll make sure to protect you from the shadows..."

Malleus Draconia

Your eyes is what made a lasting impression for Malleus. It was as if those eyes could swallow his whole being despite you being a human. Hearing this all from you, he wasn't surprise that your fellow humans would try to gouge out your eyes. Humans are fickle and easily swayed by their desires. Jealousy was an ugly thing.

Caressing your cheek, he kissed both of your eyelids as he spoke. "When I am here, no one will dare to hurt you. If they ever do, they will have to suffer my wrath."

Seeing your lover was emitting dark aura, you immediately hugged his waist and reassured that was in the past. Many thoughts ran through this fae as he wanted to ease your burden. When he offered that he might find a way to make your eyes normal, you rejected it.

He didn't have to go through so much length just to change your eyes. As much as it was hell for you but thanks to these eyes, you met many friends here in Twisted Wonderland.

Malleus merely shook his head. HIs s/o was too kind for their own good. As much as he didn’t agree with your decision, he’ll definitely be more protective for the next few days than you thought.

"Others may find you a thorn to my side, but to me you are my human, my heart, my soul and my weakness. My other half."

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 114

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 114: Found

The numbers on the sticky notes Sun Yuanzhou passed out were different for each person.

Ruan Nanzhu got eight, Lin Qiushi got seven, and Liang Miye got six. These notes could distinguish which person opened which chests. Sun Yuanzhou had done this as a precaution, but now it had come of unexpected use.

In order to eliminate Sun Yuanzhou as a potential mole, Lin Qiushi had told Sun Yuanzhou in private the day before that he'd found the Doll Mary[1]. But the Hako Onna never used the "My Doll Mary" power until Ruan Nanzhu once again made the announcement in front of the entire group. This proved that Sun Yuanzhou wasn't on the Hako Onna's side, or the Hako Onna would've used the fastest method to eliminate Ruan Nanzhu. If he were dead, after all, they'd be down one powerful rival, and the group would be without a leader.

According to everybody’s behaviors these past few days, Ruan Nanzhu also guessed that there was a limit to how many chests the humans could open in a day, and they couldn't just open however many they liked. This was likely a rule to restrict the Hako Onna's partnership with the humans—she knew where all the Hakobito were, after all, and after avoiding all the Hakobito, that player could open every chest in one go and then destroy all useful items. This would be akin to a dead end for the human players.

Judging by their progress these past few days, the mole definitely could not just open however many chests they wanted. As for the mole's identity, Ruan Nanzhu also already had a guess.

After discussing matters with Sun Yuanzhou for another little while, he finally returned to the dining room.

Lin Qiushi was just about to ask after Ruan Nanzhu when he noticed Sun Yuanzhou looking at him oddly. It was a look a bit like disdain, flavored with some envy.

Slightly bewildered, Lin Qiushi wondered what exactly Ruan Nanzhu said to Sun Yuanzhou out there.

"Darling," Ruan Nanzhu said, leaning his head on Lin Qiushi's shoulder. "I want to talk to you about something."

"Alright," Lin Qiushi nodded.

So the three left the dining room and found a random empty room on the second floor to talk.

In order to confirm that the Hako Onna wasn't around, Lin Qiushi used the pen immortal in the hallway. It made sure she was on the first floor and couldn't hear what they were discussing.

Inside the room, Ruan Nanzhu gave them a simple rundown of Sun Yuanzhou's sticky notes.

"Oh he's good," Liang Miye complimented afterwards. "If he hadn't snuck in such a move, then we'd really have no other solutions."

If they couldn't even distinguish which chests were opened up by their people and which by the mole, then that would truly be the worst scenario.

"Mh. So now the problem is, who is the mole?" Ruan Nanzhu said.

Lin Qiushi gave it a thought.

"I think if the mole isn't all that brilliant, they're bound to leave some clues."

Ruan Nanzhu propped his chin up in his hand.

"I currently have a suspect. If it really is that person, then they really aren't all that smart."

"It's best if they aren't," Lin Qiushi said. "We only have to count up the number of chests that person's opened to confirm their identity."

They'd been here for three days. The number of opened chests per person, therefore, would not exceed three. Honestly, putting aside extenuating circumstances like the first day and possessing items, the number of chests opened per person ought to be between one and two. Since the mole was working with the Hako Onna, however, they'd definitely open as many chests as possible. Everybody's sticky notes were blank at a glance anyways—they could choose to write down the content of the chest, or they could not. The mole didn't know that Sun Yuanzhou had put his little trick on the sticky notes, and so in order to prevent the other players from opening unopened chests and gaining more items, they very well might have stuck on more sticky notes than one or two.

Had it not been for Sun Yuanzhou's precaution, then they truly might have been helpless against this kind of move.

"So do we know what the count is on that mole now?" Liang Miye asked.

"Let's count up every number on the chests first, and keep an eye out for number thirteen." He'd already gotten the number of the person he suspected, but they still had to do the confirmation work.

So the three took out the notebooks and pens they carried on their persons, along with the ultraviolet light Sun Yuanzhou had given them. They began combing over every single opened chest in the mansion.

Liang Miye was in charge of technicals, Ruan Nanzhu stood guard, and Lin Qiushi was the one who looked. The three worked together in clear capacities and very quickly gathered detailed records on every single number on the chests.

It was indeed as Ruan Nanzhu guessed: the number of chests most people opened were between one and two, but there were two numbers that opened three chests each, thirteen and seventeen.

The owner of number seventeen was Xiao Ji. Plus the chests he opened up on the first day, he'd opened six in total. The number checked out, because on day one alone, he'd single-handedly opened up three chests.

The owner of number thirteen, however, had also opened three chests.

"She put three sticky notes," Liang Miye said. "But it's currently noon of day four. If we give it a count...three's still reasonable, right? If this person is brave enough…"

"No," Ruan Nanzhu said. "It's her."

"How so?" Liang Miye asked.

"If she did open three boxes, then aside from the first day, she must have eaten every single day," Ruan Nanzhu said. "But not a single person got to eat on the first day. Day two, the number of people who could eat was small too. Most of the newbies chose to hold out."

Lin Qiushi said, "is it who I think it is?"

He too had a faint guess as to who the person was.

"She introduced herself as Tian Guxue," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Tell you the truth, she's had so little presence that I'd nearly forgotten her name. It's Sun Yuanzhou who wrote it down." Cocking his head, he thought back for a bit. "But I can recall a few of the things she's said. They were all dumb as hell."

Lin Qiushi asked, "is it the girl who suggested you put the key back in the safe?"

Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

The Hako Onna wouldn't dare to ask an experienced veteran to be her partner, because veterans typically came in groups, and those who came into the tenth door together were usually partners in life and death. The moment they turned their backs on her for their teammates, her plans would completely fall through.

That was why the Hako Onna chose a weak and timid newbie. The Hako Onna had likely promised Tian Guxue that she would be the last survivor, and then made her into a mole to provide intel.

Unfortunately, Tian Guxue didn't seem to be a very qualified agent at all. At least, before all the old foxes like them, her identity had been quickly discovered.

"Fuck her, she's really something else," Liang Miye groused. "Now that you mention it, wasn't there that girl who wondered if you'd forged a hint slip? If she can say something as stupid as that, then the way I see it, that person's got about the same IQ as your mole."

The hint slip was impossible to forge—there was no way of knowing the specific situation before entering the door, so a hint slip could only be faked once inside. Once inside, however, there were no conditions to do so[2]. The hint slip, then, was the optimal proof that Ruan Nanzhu wasn't the mole, and so had successfully convinced everybody.

Now that Lin Qiushi's conjecture had been confirmed, he spoke: "So it really is her. Should we reopen every chest she's already opened now?"

"We'll see," Ruan Nanzhu said. "I do think we can go search her room though, see if there are any other clues."

"Okay," Lin Qiushi nodded. He agreed with Ruan Nanzhu's thinking.

Ransacking someone else's room was unethical behavior outside the doors, but inside the doors, with their lives on the line? It was really nothing.

But they first had to be sure that Tian Guxue wouldn't return any time soon. Liang Miye happily volunteered to go stall Tian Guxue, so that Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi could go do the search.

With a nod, Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi came to Tian Guxue's room, unlocking the door with a hairpin.

Tian Guxue lived alone. Though she kept the presence of others when she opened chests, at night she slept by herself. This was truly inconsistent with her professed timidity, but because they didn't know the newbies well, Ruan Nanzhu’s group hadn't noticed.

Now though, all the oddities were surfacing one by one; Tian Guxue was the mole they were looking for.

Once inside Tian Guxue's room, Lin Qiushi inspected all the chests there and said, "all these chests have probably been opened."

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu said. "She'd be scared to open those in other places and attract attention, so she opened all the ones in her room first…But the number of chests she can open must be limited by the day as well."

"I just hope she didn't find any important items," Lin Qiushi sighed. "Let's have a look first."

Together, the two searched throughout the room, and very quickly hit pay dirt underneath the bed. When Lin Qiushi's cell phone flashlight came upon something odd there, he reached in, felt about, and pulled out a card. When he saw what was on the card, he couldn't help but curse.

It was a hidden power card, and on it was written two words: Moving Things.

Moving Things was one of the Hako Onna's powers. It allowed her to inspect the contents of every chest in one room and also move them as she liked.

"Moving Things" wasn't particularly potent, but it was another brick boosting up the foundations of the Hako Onna's strongest power "I'm Behind You"—it brought them one step closer to unlocking that power.

Once they opened up two more of the Hako Onna's powers, then the Hako Onna could unleash "I'm Behind You." By that point, eliminating the entire group was only a matter of time.

They didn't think that Tian Guxue would've opened up such a power and then kept it hidden from public knowledge.

Lin Qiushi exhaled noisily, emotions quite complicated.

"What do we do now?"

Ruan Nanzhu said, "let me think about it."

Tian Guxue was actually a double-edged sword; she could help them open the chests, but she could also help the Hako Onna. Because the Hako Onna didn't know what was actually inside the chests either, whatever they opened up was based on luck.

They searched the room again, but didn't find anything else. Tian Guxue could be carrying something on her, or she might have already destroyed things outright.

"Why didn't she keep the card on her, but in the room instead?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Who'd want to keep this kind of thing on them?" Ruan Nanzhu replied. "Plus she doesn't look very brave at all."

Lin Qiushi nodded.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "put the card away for now. When we tell them later, we'll leave it in the dining room. It's about time we asked her if she's opened up anything else."

Lin Qiushi put the card in his pocket. Once in his possession, the card carried a sort of chill that seeped into the bones—it was indeed uncomfortable to keep around. It was an item that had to do with the Hako Onna, after all.

With the power card in their hands, the two headed downstairs. They saw Liang Miye and Tian Guxue in avid conversation in the living room.

Liang Miye looked up and saw them. Lin Qiushi gave her a nod.

Seeing this, Liang Miye smiled and stood. Ruan Nanzhu took the time to make an announcement to everybody seated in the living room.

"Let's all go have a meeting on the second floor. There's something I want to tell everyone."

"What is it?" After killing Wei Xiude, Xiao Ji and Xiao Mei had stuck together. He asked casually, "have you found the mole or something?"

Ruan Nanzhu just smiled, not answering. During this dialogue, however, Lin Qiushi noticed Tian Guxue's face go pale beside them.

Everybody arrived in the second floor study, waiting for Ruan Nanzhu to make his announcement.

Straight away, Ruan Nanzhu tossed the power card they'd found in Tian Guxue's room onto the table. The first thing he pronounced was: "We found this in the mole's room."

Everybody looked toward the card—and instant hubbub. The smile Tian Guxue had managed to keep had completely disappeared as well; she was pale as a sheet, watching Ruan Nanzhu with a look of panic. Her body even began to unconsciously tremble.

"Fuck, who the hell is it!" Sun Yuanzhou had a temper to begin with. The instant he saw that somebody had hidden a power card, he exploded.

Before Ruan Nanzhu even spoke, Tian Guxue broke down. She began to sob and heave: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it wasn't on purpose—I'm so sorry, she forced me to do it! I had no other choice!"

At this, everybody turned to Tian Guxue in astonishment. They didn't think a newbie with such little presence would be the mole who'd been selling them out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Tian Guxue continued to apologize under the unfriendly gazes, but nobody said anything about forgiveness. After all, had Ruan Nanzhu not unearthed her identity by force, then they would all likely be screwed. They didn't even know how many powers she'd opened up for the Hako Onna.

"Oh shut the hell up," Xiao Ji snapped. "Why didn't you apologize when you were fucking screwing us over? What's the point of saying sorry now, huh? Tell us, what else have you been hiding!"

After being yelled at like this, Tian Guxue was trembling, but she didn't dare try to refute any of it. She looked pathetically at Ruan Nanzhu.

"Zhu Meng-jie, I only hid that one power card, I haven't kept anything else from you…"

"Oh," Ruan Nanzhu said faintly. "Well, since you haven't hidden anything, then you wouldn't mind if we searched your body, right?"

"On what basis?!" The moment she heard they wanted to search her, Tian Guxue panicked. She got up to run, but was immediately pressed to the ground by the people standing ready around her. Even when she was on the ground, she was yelling, "how dare you try to search me—this is illegal!"

At the word "illegal," everybody only scoffed. If there was such a thing as legality inside the doors, then would they be doing any of this? It really did take the contrast to understand that it was heaven outside.

"Go on." Ruan Nanzhu gestured for Liang Miye to search her with the lift of a chin.

Had Tian Guxue been a guy, Ruan Nanzhu would've done it himself already. She was a woman though, and despite having done such a thing, Ruan Nanzhu's group still let her keep a last bit of dignity.

Tian Guxue cried and struggled, but they held her down. Liang Miye inspected her pockets and backpack, very quickly finding something useful.

"It's an item!" Liang Miye exclaimed in excitement.

"Which item?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"The wooden stake!"

Liang Miye fished out a white stick of wood from Tian Guxue's pockets. It had one end sharpened to a point, and looked like the wooden stakes used to put down vampires.

This was a very critical item in the Hako Onna tabletop game, about as important as the gasoline.

In the game, there were only three items that could stop the Hako Onna. The first was the gasoline, the second was the rusty chain, and the third was the wooden stake currently in their hands.

"Aaaaah, give it back, give it back!!!"

When Tian Guxue saw the wooden stake in Liang Miye's hands, she began to scream like she'd gone crazy.

"Give it back," she said, "give it back to me! That's mine!"

"Shut your mouth! If I hit women, I'd've beaten you to death by now!" Xiao Ji yelled, already very irritated by Tian Guxue's screaming. "You have the nerve to ask for an item? We're already goddamn saints for leaving you alive!"

But Tian Guxue wasn't listening to Xiao Ji at all. She only continued to wail, and in the end, someone couldn't take it anymore—they ripped off a piece of tablecloth and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Uhhh…" Tears continued to stream down her face, and Tian Guxue could only keep moaning.

The gasoline could kill the Hakobito while the wooden stake and rusty chain could kill the Hako Onna. The precondition to using the items, however, was that they had to know which one was the Hako Onna's Weakness. If they used the wrong one, they would die immediately.

"She must have hidden something else." Disregarding Tian Guxue's muffled wailing beside him, Ruan Nanzhu continued to calmly analyze his current conclusions. "She's hidden the rulebook, at least."

But seeing Tian Guxue in such an unstable state, nobody wanted to release her. They got a rope from somewhere nearby and tied her to a chair.

They were going to wait until she'd calmed down to continue questioning her.

The atmosphere in the dining room was quiet. Beside Tian Guxue's moaning, everybody else had sunk into silence.

Then all of a sudden, Sun Yuanzhou spoke up.

"Say…Do you think there's only one mole?"

"She seems like the only one for now," Ruan Nanzhu said. "At least that's the case based on the evidence. Of course, let's not rule out extenuating circumstances."

In the numbers they recorded, only Tian Guxue's count was off.

"Let's just hope there's nobody else," someone mumbled.

Tian Guxue cried for well over half an hour. Finding no pity, however, she finally quieted her sobbing. She seemed to understand her position, eyes becoming lifeless and despondent before she finally gave up struggling, falling silent in her chair.

Ruan Nanzhu saw that she'd stopped crying and yanked the cloth out from her mouth.

"I know I'm in the wrong, but I had no other choice," Tian Guxue spoke lowly. "I was scared, I was so, so scared…"

"Who's not scared?" Ruan Nanzhu said. "We're all human. Go on then, where did you hide the rulebook?"

"In the furthest bathroom on the first floor, under the water tank," Tian Guxue said. She seemed to have truly given in, fessing up the location of the rulebook with honesty. "It's all Wei Xiude's fault, it's him!!! If he hadn't lied to us, we wouldn't have come in here, uwaa…"

Outside the door, Wei Xiude had promised to protect them and bring them through the tenth door.

But in reality, on the very first day they entered the door, they'd known they'd been lied to. This was the tenth door—Wei Xiude could barely protect himself, how could he possibly protect them? Tian Guxue had gotten through her first door on luck alone. She couldn't imagine that her second door would be so immediately difficult—difficult enough that she couldn't see any hope of surviving.

Then there came a voice from the chests to tempt her.

Tian Guxue had been possessed. In the end she became the ghost that lured in passersby for the tiger[3].

Ruan Nanzhu sent people to where Tian Guxue said, and indeed found the rulebook that Tian Guxue had hidden underneath the water tank.

"Why didn't you destroy the rulebook?"

The rulebook was wrapped up in a plastic bag and perfectly preserved. Xiao Ji flipped through it as he asked the question off the top of his head.

"I was scared I couldn't remember it," Tian Guxue answered quietly. She seemed quite stunned; being exposed like this had clearly been a huge shock to her. "I was so scared…"

Evidently, she didn't completely trust the Hako Onna, or else she wouldn't carry the wooden stake on her. Tian Guxue was neither brave nor very smart—she was indeed an easy target to manipulate. The only shame was that unclever people easily exposed their flaws. Lin Qiushi counted their luck that the Hako Onna hadn't set her eyes on anybody else.

Had it been one of the old guards like Ruan Nanzhu who'd been tempted, then the whole house might very well have been killed without knowing anything.

The rulebook was pretty much the same as the tabletop they knew. With this, the group had a much clearer understanding of the game.

"Are you hiding anything else?" Xiao Ji asked.

"No, no, I'm really not hiding anything else," Tian Guxue rushed to say.

But the way everybody looked at her was still filled with suspicion. She was currently bankrupt of all trust.

Then Ruan Nanzhu thought of something else.

"How many chests can you open per day?"

"Three," Tian Guxue answered. "I've only opened twelve so far…"

Twelve was a lot.

Ruan Nanzhu sank into silence.

"What are you thinking about?" Sun Yuanzhou asked him.

Ruan Nanzhu looked toward Tian Guxue, and replied placidly, "how to repurpose some trash, of course."

A look of fright appeared on Tian Guxue's face. She'd always been scared of Ruan Nanzhu. Now, after hearing what Ruan Nanzhu said, she started trembling like a mouse under the scrutiny of a cat; she looked like she could faint at any moment.

Translator’s Note:

RNZ had been the one to tell SYZ that, but it’s what the text said.

I suppose this means that if they wanted to fake a hint slip, they could only do it once they knew they situation inside, and once they were inside, they had no physical way of forging it. Is it because it’s printed? Or because they’d have no time/opportunity? It strikes me that someone like RNZ could forge a hint slip (unless it’s computer-printed, but that feels ironically anachronistic; if it’s a typewriter, then couldn’t they bring a typewriter in with them?), and that’d actually come in handy for a door like this one. Had RNZ come in alone, for instance, and partnered up with Hako Onna, he could hide the rulebook and fake his authority via a fake hint slip. But anyways, I assume the potential benefits of bringing in everything you need to forge a hint slip is too abstract; it wouldn’t actually be useful in any other door, so he’d have no reason to prepare for that. (Then again, does SYZ have any more reason to prepare the hidden numbers on the sticky notes? :thinking-emoji:)

There are a ton of different classifications of “ghosts” and “ghouls” and “monsters” in Chinese cosmology. This one is particular is 倀鬼 / chāng guǐ, and one of the myths about this classification of ghost is that people who are killed by tigers become changgui, which in turn help tigers lure in more prey.

Names in this chapter:

Tián Gúxuě / Tian(2) Gu(2) Xue(3) / 田穀雪

[Ch. 113] | [Ch. 115]

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

Songs mentioned in this chapter (in this order): Now or Never & Wake Up by JaTP | Don't Stop Me Now by Queen | Rude by MAGIC! | Don’t Laugh At Me by Mark Wills | Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing by Tori Kelly | Still Learning by Halsey | Ayo Technology by 50 Cent | My version of My Name Is Luke by Trevor Wilson | Let’s Forget About It by Lisa Loeb | Let's Just Get Naked Lyrics by Joan Osborne | Hey by Pixies

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected. 

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.) 

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you. 

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie. 

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been. 

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly. 

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before. 

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible. 

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there. 

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.” 

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence. 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky  And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open. 

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?). 

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again. 

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be. 

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?) 

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room. 

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.” 

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.) 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!” 

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.” 

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit. 

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!” 

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Taglist: @sunsetcurvej​​ @ifilwtmfc​

[travellingarmy]

║Chongyun║Hot

Gender-neutral.

N/SFW-ish. Not really though?

Word count: 1.4k

---

You, Chongyun, and Xingqiu were the inseparable trio. People in Liyue Harbor would see one of you three and can assume that the other two are somewhere nearby. However, you weren't quite happy knowing that you and Chongyun were just friends. Xingqui caught on quickly at your odd behaviours and teased you about it. Of course, he'd help you once having a laugh or two, though he might not be the best person to go to when seeking for a wingman.

"Xingqiu, for the nth time, we are not going to try that!" you said, in utter horror at the suggestion coming from the male's mouth. "How come? You will never know once you try it," he points out. The silly idea he was going on about was you gliding from the highest of mountains with a broken glider and hope that Chongyun would catch you. It was honestly a dumb and dangerous idea.

"I'll die!" You stare at the evil male in disbelief, seriously confused how no one in his immediate family see how wicked he could be. "Maybe you'll live.. Anyway, if you don't want to try it, you got any ideas?" he ask, seeing you ponder to yourself, fingers underneath your chin. "Well, uh.."

Xingqiu sighs, knowing you have nothing better than what he had suggested. "Why don't you simply say that you like him?" He shrugs. "What is the harm in doing that?"

"Our friendship!?" you say, looking straight at the your male friend. "What if he doesn't like me back? Our friendship will be torn!" Xingqiu looks back at you with a blank look. "How would you know? I mean, you haven't tried telling him."

The male was really uncomfortable, you thought to yourself, sighing a sigh of someone having their energy drained.

"Ah, it's whatever.. Let's drop this topic and talk about something else," you say. "You have any plans for tonight?" The bluenette looks off to the distance and remained silent. Then, "Ah! I got it!" he exclaims, jumping up from the bench and earned himself a quizzical you. He turns and looks down at you, sitting down on the bench looking up at him, with a snicker. A sudden rush of shivers ran down your spine. Whatever he was planning to do, it will not end good for someone. Not when he snickered so wickedly.

"I'll see you tonight, (Y/N)!" He had his back faced to you and skipped away while laughing lowly to himself. You were left there with one question: what did he mean when he said that he'll meet you tonight? It wasn't something you dwelled upon since it will be answered tonight.

During that night, you were in your living room, reading a book to get yourself tired and head to bed. It was quarter past eight, yet there was no Xingqiu at your door. You had come to think that it was a blessing. Remembering his evil smirk, you definitely knew that if he were to come, it was because of a wicked plan of his.

When time rolled around to quarter to nine, you decided it was best to turn off the lights of the living room and head to your room. Surely, he wouldn't come tonight, so you think.

Oh were you truly wrong. You had fallen asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, but around early twelve, you received a knock on your front door-- Actually, it was a banging on your door, seeing as the lights were off and the house was still for the night. Hearing this, you jolted wide awake from your slumber, heart in a panic. There wasn't anybody home and your parents were out to the neighbouring city for business, and definitely won't be back around this time.

You didn't want to open the door, but you didn't want the person or persons breaking it down either, so you tiptoe all the way to the window that could just about see whomever could be at the door, peeking out from the curtains slightly so that they won't see you.

To your surprise, it was someone you know. They look a bit out of it from where you were staring and rushed to the door to open it. "Chongyun!" you exclaim, staring at the red-faced male. "Hey, you alright?" You rested a hand on his shoulder, seeing that he wasn't even staring directly at you. The small interaction made his body give in and collapsed. You were quick, luckily, and caught him, wrapping your arms to support him. "Hey, Chongyun? Chongyun?" There was no answer from the male. You look around the surroundings to see any suspicious person or persons, and when you came to a conclucsion that there wasn't a soul around that could have done this, you dragged him inside and flopped his body on the sofa.

Seeing as he was red and panting, you place a hand on his head. He was burning up, but it didn't look like he was sick, and he was definitely fine in the morning before leaving you with Xingqiu. "Hey, did something happen when you went out?" you ask, hoping that he would answer. He didn't give you a verbal answer and shook his head instead. Then, it struck you. "Don't tell me you've eaten something spicy!"

He was silent. The hand that rested on his forehead was brought down to his cheeks by him. He leans into your hands and started placing kisses onto your palm and sucking it, eyes closed as he does so. Your cheeks became warm with a tingling sense as you watch him. "Hey, uh, let me go get you milk to, uhm.." Words failed to form, your heart feeling as if it was about to explode from his actions.

His eyelids fluttered open, narrowed, as he stare at you with eyes that you couldn't quite decipher what it was hiding. Seeing your state, Chongyun took this as an opportunity to flip the both of you around, him now hovering above you. Your red-face only became much more obvious as you stared at his eyes.

It finally hit you. The eyes he had were that of a predator looking at its prey; hungry. Eating spicy food didn't mean that he was like that of a drunk, rather, it made him much more hyper. Meaning to say, he put on a little show for you.

A smile forms on the blunette's lips as he stared at you. "Say, (Y/N), do you like me?" The question caught you off guard and felt as if the air was punched out of your stomach. "I, what? Who told you that?" you stammered. The hyperactive side of him was truly strange to people whom had never had encountered him before, like he was a totally different person.

"Ah, so you do like me!" He laughs. This state was truly bizarre, even for someone like you whom have known him far longer than anybody. His laugh had died down and with it, his smile vanishes and eyes were devoid of any light, staring at you seriously. Then, he droops his head in the crook between your shoulders and neck and the both of you stayed in that position for a while. At this point, you were sure that he could feel your heart beating against your ribcage.

His head then shifted and his lips were close to your ears. You let a low moan when he nibbled on the sensitive part of it and he snickers, his breath hitting your ear which made it much worse. "Hey, guess what?" he asks with a sly smile, that you couldn't see, tugging his lips. He moved his head back a little and you look at him from the side of your eyes. "I. Like. You. Too!" You didn't know what to say, but luckily for you, he had fallen asleep, resting his head on your chest. You know that he may not remember what happened, so tomorrow, you are sure to tell him.

Your fingers entangled with his soft hair, his soft breathing lulling you to your slumber.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a little devil sitting in his room with nothing but a lamp to illuminate his face, reading a book with a proud smirk. He may or may not be the one who invited his dear, icy friend to dinner and give him a little something that would make him the way he was. "Oh~ This is an interesting chapter."

---

[mythicamagic]

"You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

Okay, curiosity got the better of me, and even though there are so many good prompts to choose, I settled with this one. There is no telling which way it will go, but it sounds amusing! Have fun! ^_^

Decided to do something different with this involving mind reading, hope you like.

----

Becoming privy to Sesshoumaru's thoughts happened about as unexpectedly as one would think. Having returned from the future after three years, Kagome had figured the amount of weirdness in her life would scale back a bit. The jewel was gone, and everyone was enjoying their 'happily ever afters' so surely she could finally gain some semblance of normalcy in the past, right?

'Irritating…'

Kagome shifted, sneaking a glance at the Daiyoukai as he sat at the base of a tree. His voice resounded inside her mind, seemingly without his knowledge or consent. He was eyeing something flitting about mid-air. A fly, she suspected.

Golden eyes shifted, slit pupils keen. A hand blurred, catching the thing between forefinger and thumb.

'Die.'

Green light shone out from between his fingers, successfully killing his 'prey.'

Kagome supposed it was somewhat comforting to know that his thoughts were about the same as whatever words he deigned to speak aloud. The psychic ability she'd gained only applied to Sesshoumaru, and had happened one random day when she'd been fighting a demon.

Between one moment and the next- a presence had warmed her side as he'd deflected an attack meant for her. This had resulted in sharp, static red youki swallowing their forms briefly- Sesshoumaru's energy rushing through her system. It had stolen Kagome's breath and sent her heart thundering.

A second later, she'd started hearing his thoughts. Most startling of all, they'd begun with something completely unexpected;

'I will keep you safe, foolish miko.'

Biting her lip, Kagome snuck another glance at him- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing back. Squeaking, she focused on her forgotten work, roughly weaving a basket with a little more force than necessary.

"Are you alright, Kagome?" Sango asked, sitting beside her on the grassy hill as they prepared a few herbs and useful things for Kaede.

"Fine! Totally f-"

'Her scent is erratic, yet the woman continues to sneak glances at me. How odd. Is she becoming interested in this one? It is long overdue.'

"What?" Kagome questioned out loud, feeling Sango’s perplexed stare. The heat of another pair of eyes warmed the nape of her neck.

'Hn, I have not sensed her pine for the Half Breed in many months after their breakup. It is possible she is looking for another male. The miko is not promiscuous enough to trifle with me. She requires...a lasting bond.'

Biting her lip, Kagome's eyes burned with want to look at him again.

'Could I keep a miko? She is not like others. They usually despise my kind- and I do not care for them. But this bratty, fiery woman has proven herself through her dealings with the Jewel and the Spider. Mn...the thought of having her should not stir my blood so,' he sighed in her mind. 'Perhaps once I accept my interest in her, the vivid fantasies will stop.'

What fantasies? she wondered.

Kagome really should not have asked, because somehow a lewd mental image of herself was projected from his head directly into her gawking brain.

Standing quickly, skirts swaying about her thighs- Kagome forced a smile. "I-I forgot to do something earlier! Sorry Sango, I'll finish up with you later."

Hurrying down the hill, she stiffened upon hearing a silky voice trail after her inside her mind.

'Why is she leaving? This is unacceptable. She takes her mouth-watering scent with her,' he seemed to pause contemplatively. 'Must your retreating form be so pleasing to the eye, Kagome?'

Kagome flushed red, feeling the urge to cover her ass while running from the unexpected thoughts. However, she kept her hands at her side- a weird thrill of excitement racing down her spine.

Like a radio broadcast sounding out from a speaker- the further she ran, the dimmer his velvety voice became.

---

Emerging from Kaede's hut a few days later, Kagome fussed with her new clothing. Miko robes felt somewhat uncomfortable, but Kaede had insisted she at least try getting used to wearing them for a few days.

She honestly couldn't imagine walking around in such garments as a permanent uniform. They reminded her too much of someone else.

'No.'

Kagome jerked, freezing in place and pretending to fiddle with her collar, trying to secretly glance around for the elusive Daiyouaki.

'...Those robes do not suit her. What's more- her light scent is muddied with unnecessary feelings. Those clothes make you self-conscious, do they not, miko? Take them off.'

Blinking, Kagome's heart warmed slightly inside her chest. He could read her so easily? He...cared about how she felt?

"And those pants cover her long legs. Disgusting. You are the one who forced me into appreciating a woman's thighs, miko. Bare them to me again.'

Hissing a short breath through her teeth, Kagome whipped her head to one side- spying Sesshoumaru lingering by a hut about 40 yards away. He stiffened, blatantly surprised she'd pinpointed his location so easily.

'Could she sense me?'

Blushing, Kagome cleared her throat and gave a slight wave, before disappearing back inside the hut. She wanted to test something, and the fluttering inside her lower stomach was getting too prominent to ignore.

---

Stepping out after a quick wardrobe change, Kagome pretended not to notice him again, fiddling with her cute modern outfit. She felt more at ease in her home wear, and the voice in her head seemed to agree.

'That is much better…' Sesshoumaru's tone slid into that of curiosity. 'You feel mischievous, miko? Now why is that? I sense your fluttering excitement.'

Raised her arms above her head nonchalantly, Kagome arched her back as she stretched.

'What…?' the thinness of his tone almost made her grin ferally. 'What...are those?'

Kagome had never intended to wear them. In fact, she'd stuffed them deep inside the depths of her backpack because Yuka, Eri and Ayumi had taken it upon themselves to buy her something 'sexy' for her bad boyfriend and Souta had innocently walked into her room one day while she was packing. She hadn't had the heart to tell her friends she'd broken up with Inuyasha a long while ago.

She had no need for black lacy thigh highs, complete with suspender garter belts resting enticingly on her thighs. Or at least, she hadn't until today. Kagome stretched with a little more exaggeration, letting out a breathy sigh as her pleated skirt hitched up, exposing more of her toned legs to his gaze.

A terribly loud noise deafened her hearing like a clap of rumbling thunder, heralding a storm. Kagome realised a little belatedly that it hadn't been contained to the privacy of Sesshoumaru's mind- the growl rippling through the space between them.

He stood much closer than expected, golden eyes pinning her in place.

"Oh- hi there, Sesshoumaru," Kagome hid her surprise behind a smile. "Something wrong?"

The Daiyoukai's burning, orange eyes searched her face. Slowly, they dimmed back into gold, as he realised there was nothing appropriate he could say.

'Do you know what you are doing, little minx? Or are you completely unaware of how badly I desire those thighs wrapped around my waist?'

"Nothing," he said out loud, face completely devoid of expression.

Kagome arched a brow. He had a damn good poker face.

"Well...okay," she lifted a shoulder, taking a few steps away. "But you know, if something was bothering you, it would be better all round to just tell me. I'm not a mind reader."

Mild intrigue flickered. "I do not think you would appreciate knowing my innermost thoughts."

"Try me."

Sesshoumaru's lips curved, his blank expression cracking into something more honest and imperfect. Human, almost, in its raw appetite- the demon circling around her slowly like a predator. "The dark hungering of an inuyoukai is not something that pure and pretty miko's could stomach," he uttered.

Kagome took a breath, keeping to her bravado. Because if she didn't keep her courage, the thoughts she'd heard so clearly inside her mind would remain exactly that- formless. Never touching reality.

And that felt like a shame.

"Maybe not all of them could, but I've journeyed across Japan with a perverted con-artist and been kidnapped by dark and terrible demons much bigger than you," she hummed, keeping eye contact. "And I'm not promiscuous or anything, but I'm not a prude either. Given the right person, even I can get a little...hungry."

She heard a sharp in-take of breath. Sesshoumaru stopped, lingering in close proximity as his voice dropped into something downright sinful. "How surprising."

Kagome lifted a shoulder. "Not really, but judging by your hesitancy to share anything on your mind- maybe my 'dark hungering' would be too much for you."

Golden eyes flashed. "Preposterous."

"No, no- I think it's true," she gave an impish smile. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

This seemed to snap his carefully constructed facade of control. Sesshoumaru's claws snapped out, fingers trembling as they gripped her hair. A fierce breeze lashed around them as Kagome realised he'd collected white energy around their forms- speeding them out of sight into the lush forest. Away from the safety of witnesses. None could save her now.

Sesshoumaru bore down over her, neck craned, mouth hovering close. It was sharp teeth that brushed her parted lips first.

'I will have you- strange, enticing, annoying woman.'

Kagome shuddered, blue eyes darkened as her thighs rubbed together. Her hands met silken robes, gliding up into silky hair as his arm swooped down, hooking beneath her knees.

While their lips crashed together and Sesshoumaru held her aloft- Kagome smiled and wordlessly obliged by wrapping her thighs around his lean waist, giggling as the taciturn demon inwardly purred.

[aitarose]

YELLOW DAISIES (A. MIYA) pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader

synopsis: atsumu miya, japan’s most entitled player, the person that strangers resented for unprecedented boasting and confidence—a facade as there was only one person who knew the real him.

word count: 1.6k

genre: established relationship, fluff, time skip

warnings: slight angst, asshole!atsumu?, hospital, mentions of death

notes: i’m only on episode two of season four so i’ve literally never heard this man speak a word, but i wrote this for some reason asjdfkl

↳ DIRECTORY

He was revolutionary—that was what flashed in bright lights in the media, magazines, and news when the name Miya Atsumu came into the picture. It was an honorable title, one that he’d earned from his years of experience, years of effort to become the best player he could possibly be. 

Fans of the game couldn’t help but admire his ambition, his confidence when it came to setting—when it came to being on the court. There was nowhere else he seemed to fit, no where else that deemed worthy of a man like him.

He was simply made to play volleyball, he was put on the planet to coordinate the team and help lead them to their respective victories. The drive he had was envious, admirable even to professionals that were years ahead of him in experience. 

But there was a catch, just as there always seemed to be a catch when things appear too perfect or other-worldly, as Miya Atsumu was considered the most egocentric man in all of Japan. 

Yes, his talent was astonishing and his looks trumped some of the most handsome men in the world, but he was a complete and utter narcissist to the public eye. A complete asshole in all senses of empathy. 

He was perhaps an enigma. A man that no one person could quite figure out. A total mystery to everyone but those close to him—to everyone but his twin-brother and the few teammates that he considered friends.

And it wasn’t that the public wanted to hate him, they wanted nothing more than to find a redeeming quality, something that would save his reputation—the ignorant reputation that he’d somehow managed to build himself over the course of his professional career.

Tabloids constantly had new headlines to publish, weekly reports on whatever star-born attitude Atsumu had acted on in public, during games, or even in the safety of the team’s after parties—parties that he’d rarely be found at.

The most common hate train would be the look he’d give the camera every time he so much as scored a point mid-match. The cocky, full of himself gaze to the viewers watching at home, as if to say that he was the real King of the Court. 

Holding up his hands in the shape of a heart, Atsumu would smile with a smug grin, teeth flashing white and sticking his tongue out dramatically. He’d hold the position for a few seconds, making sure that the camera got a good take of his face, before returning to the adrenaline rush of the game.

It was as if he became an even better player after his boastful routine, focusing on the game as if it was life or death, as if he would be ruined if they were to lose a single point—frightening the other team with one glance, one look forcing them to crumble underneath their own dead weight.

With his rare intimidating attitude, the Black Jackals had little to nothing to worry about when it came to their setter. He was reliable, always there to pick up the slack when all odds seemed to be against them—when the books refused to read in their favor.

And his teammates absolutely loved him, they knew him better than nearly anyone other than Osamu. When microphones and interviewers shoved misguided questions in their faces, they’d always defend him, as they were more than just players on the same side of the court—they were practically brothers.

So, when it’d be time to stay after the game to greet the fans, give them kisses on the cheek while the camera cemented their meeting in history, his friends paid no mind to how quickly Atsumu would rush out of the building. They’d pay no attention to how he’d refuse to entertain his fans, only stopping for one girl—one girl who’d offered him a bouquet of bright yellow daisies. 

“Thank you.” He’d mutter, nodding his head at the young girl before stalking off, ignoring how she fawned over the beauty of his facial features, obsessing over the way he’d just so much as acknowledged her existence. 

Pulling out of the stadium’s parking lot was always a big hassle, with the media and paparazzi awaiting his exit, video cameras taping his every move and step he took. There was zero privacy for him, every one of his secrets always seeming to be on film.

But Atsumu didn’t care, he didn’t mind running over a few parking cones, forcing the photographers to jump out of his car’s way, back onto the sidewalk where they belonged. He had absolutely no disregard for their safety according to the new’s titles.

As well as no respect to traffic laws. Speeding limits was a thing of the past in his mind, always going about twenty miles over, whether that was on a highway or neighborhood street. His life ran on double time, needing to be in a rush, a rush away from his duties.

His sports car headed north on the daily, never straying from its path, in pursuit of the same destination every day—every time he had the chance to escape the responsibilities of being a world-known athlete.

And though the world liked to act as if they knew everything about him, as if he was an open book whose chapters were updated every week, no one knew why Atsumu would spend so much time at the international hospital. Why he’d enter the building in the evenings and leave at dawn.

Even today, after the loss of a championship match, he wore the brightest smile on his face while holding a massive bouquet of yellow daisies—the flower that’d always accompany him through the blank grey walls of the healing center.

The grin would stay plastered, the expression reading ingenuity as he’d walk through the automatic doors, taking a final glance back to make sure that no one had followed him, before letting the facade crumble—before he let it dissolve into a somber frown. 

“Looking beautiful as always.” Atsumu laughed, waltzing up to the front desk, greeting his favorite worker as she rolled her eyes, passing him the check in sheet with a pointed look. “How’s my girl doing?”

The woman behind the counter took a deep breath, inspecting his signature to ensure that he hadn’t signed in the wrong place, before looking up to respond to his question—the same question that he asked her every day.

“Waiting for you.” She said, gesturing that everything was alright and he could proceed to the dual elevators that carried him to the top floor, the floor in which permanent residents stayed. “She’s up there waiting, just like she always is.”

Blowing the clerk a joking kiss, Atsumu carried on, holding the bouquet with a death grip, picking at the flowers to make sure that they looked their absolute best—that they deserved to be held in his favorite girl’s hands. 

Standing in the elevator, his heart dropped at each ding. It was a sound that he had never gotten used to, one that haunted him as he slept, taunting him as if to say that the minutes were counting down—the minutes losing their value, the minutes he had left with her decreasing. 

Despite how much he loathed the noise, how he wished he could shut it all off, make time stop just so he could have an infinite amount of moments by her side—he knew that life would come to the point in which he’d hear that sound one last time. A point in which he’d leave the building and never have a reason to return. 

As he approached the room he knew all too well, Atsumu brought his hand up to a light knock on the door, giving her a little heads up that he was there, that he didn’t forget about her even though he’d maintained his constant routine for months now. 

“Is that the famous Miya Atsumu I hear?” Y/N’s melodious voice called out, knowing all too well that her beloved boyfriend had arrived to harass her. Her already enlarged heart grew bigger at the sight of his brown eyes and golden hair that she’d always try to spot on the court.

While the world admired him for his physical beauty, she knew him for the beauty inside. The beauty that she was so blessed to see, the real personality that was reserved for her and her alone—not even Osamu had seen him so gentle, so caring. 

“Yer favorites,” he held out the bouquet to her in a regal manner, presenting it as if she were a queen and it was her crown. His dramatics sent her into a fit of giggles, accepting the flowers with a scoff as he rose up to press a soft kiss on her awaiting lips. 

“I saw you.” She whispered, pulling him down to meet her smile once more, relishing in the feeling of their love connecting. It was a feeling that she was addicted to, one that she longed for whenever he was away. “I saw you and the stupid little heart that you flash me on television.”

Atsumu helped her move over on the hospital bed, making enough room for him to lay down beside her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, his head resting on top of hers. “Stupid? You sound like the rest of ‘em.”

“No one would be calling it stupid if they knew what it meant.” He pinched her cheeks, puckering her lips to a pout and kissing her over and over again. “If they knew I only do it because I want my girl to be proud of me.”

He sighed, holding her as if she would disappear if he let go, his fear of losing her of greater importance than any public opinion or false story. His fears being valid and reasonable as neither of them knew how much time they had left—how much time they had left to be totally and completely in love. 

© aitarose.tumblr 2021. do not copy or claim my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers as your own

[blushingreid]

Weak Knees

Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer finds a very lost reader in a corn maze, who insists they’re not.

A/N: request from the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins :) For a certain part of the plot to make sense, I did a tiny switch from a corn maze to a hay bale maze (they’re quite similar). I hope I did it justice. Pls enjoy & slide me some feedback <3

Fuck you Morgan.

That’s all Spencer could think while he angrily stomped his way through the maze.

The BAU team had gone to the local pumpkin patch for some team bonding when they came across the notorious hay bale maze. Spencer had been rambling on about the origins of corn mazes when Morgan had dared Spencer to see how fast he could get out of this maze alone.

After about twenty minutes, Spencer started getting frustrated. He really thought he would’ve figured out the maze by now. These damn tricky patterns. He hadn’t planned to keep running into dead ends. The team had gone on a Wednesday night, one of their only free nights, so it seemed like Spencer was the only one in the maze.

Suddenly, he heard a long string of curses being yelled around the corner. Curiosity getting to him, Spencer decided to follow the voice, eager to see who was behind it. As he rounded the corner, he saw you pacing back and forth, profanities spilling from your lips. Spencer was instantly intrigued, he couldn’t stop the smile from emerging as he found himself quite entertained by you.

You stopped pacing after you got a strange feeling that you were being watched. You whipped around to face a rather tall, attractive, and lanky man who seemed to be enjoying your pacing and swearing moment. Maybe getting lost in a hay bale maze wasn’t such a bad thing, if you’d get to be lost with this handsome stranger.

Spencer cleared his throat when he finally realized that you had caught him watching you. He flashed you a small smile, followed by a shy wave, trying to show that he wasn’t a creeper.

“Uh hi, I’m Spencer. I heard you when I was um around the corner. I thought you had gotten hurt or something, so I came to check,” Spencer tried to explain, stepping closer to you. “Are you lost?”

“Nice to meet you, I’m y/n,” you introduced, smiling up at him. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not lost. I’m just um exploring, and um I tripped over a pebble, you know,” you attempted to make an excuse, avoiding his eyes. You’d gone into the maze trying to find your friend, but instead got lost as well. You weren’t going to tell a stranger that though. It didn’t take a profiler to realize you were clearly lying. However, Spencer didn’t want to call you out on that as he sensed your already cranky attitude.

“I was looking for the exit anyways, so um let’s head out together before it gets dark and we actually get lost,” Spencer offered. He was sure he’d be able to find the exit soon. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt getting to know you more.

“If you can get us to the exit, lead the way genius,” you said, reluctantly walking besides Spencer.

30 minutes pass by filled with you and Spencer arguing on which direction to go. If he wasn’t so cute, you would’ve left him and went your own way. It was those enchanting eyes. Actually his fluffy hair. Or maybe his adorable nose that kept you by his side. Soon you both realized you were no where near the exit.

As you hit another dead end, Spencer let out a loud sigh. Though he didn’t mind the company, he would’ve rather had it in a different setting.

“Not so much of a genius after all are we?” you teased, trying to climb on top of one of the hay bale stacks.

You weren’t having any luck so you backed up and decided to get a running start. Spencer was lost for words as he couldn’t stifle the chuckle that escaped him when he saw this short stranger attempt to scale the eight foot tall wall.

“Okay handsome genius, since you wanna just stand there and laugh, now it’s your turn to give me a boost,” you said, walking up to Spencer.

Spencer stood staring down at you, a confused look on his face. He soon concluded you weren’t joking once he noticed your serious expression.

“Hey if you wanna get out of here, then we need to try to see above these walls. Clearly, I’m not going to be able to without a little help,” you said gesturing to your shorter stature.

Spencer sighed as he turned his back towards you and crouched down so you could get on his back. He let out a quiet grunt when you jumped onto his back, your arms wrapping around his neck. His nose was soon filled with scents of cinnamon donuts and marshmallows. An odd combination, but one he was finding himself quite comfortable with.

“Yay okay. So I see we’re only a couple feet away from the exit. If we make a left turn, then two rights, another left, and walk str-“ You didn’t finish before you felt Spencer fall forward, taking you down with him.

Spencer cursed himself for not listening to Morgan’s advice to start working out more as he hit the ground. You soon followed, falling on top of Spencer. For a pipe cleaner built man, he seemed to cushion your fall well.

You were about to yell at Spencer for messing up your directions, until you made eye contact with him. You hadn’t realized how close both your faces were to one another. The setting sun, casting a warm glow onto both of you. All you could do was stare into those warm hazel eyes and you felt yourself being further pulled towards them.

Spencer’s mind went blank as his breath hitched in his throat when he’d realized the extent of your position. He was frozen in shock or maybe anticipation for what was to come next when he saw you caught his eyes glancing down at your lips.

Both of you sharing the same thought, as you leaned into one another closing the tiny gap between your lips. At first, it was a hesitant kiss. Neither one of you sure if this was the best idea. However, soon enough you were enveloped by your attraction to one another as the kiss deepened.

The need for air soon overcame the need for each other as you both slowly pulled away, neither one of you breaking eye contact. That kiss had awoken something between the two of you. It made you feel like you’d been together before. You needed to confirm this feeling. You couldn’t stop yourself as you leaned down to capture Spencer’s already swollen lips for one more kiss.

Spencer’s mind was racing with a million thoughts as he returned the kiss, his arms pulling you down to an even closer embrace. Who was this beautiful stranger? How’d they manage to steal his heart in less than an hour? What was this feeling he couldn’t explain to himself? It wasn’t until you pulled away, Spencer totally breathless, that you realized the sun was starting to set. You hoped to have a continuance of this moment soon, getting off of Spencer and helping him up from the ground.

“We uh better get going before the sun sets,” you pointed out, a sudden wave of shyness emerging.

Spencer wasn’t ready to just forget and move on from the moment you two just had. As you started to walk towards the exit, you felt a tug and found yourself pulled back into Spencer’s chest. His hands on your waist steadying you as he quickly placed a chaste kiss to your lips before grabbing your hand and leading you towards your journey to finding the exit.

“If we ever escape this maze, I’d really like to take you on a date sometime.”

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 4/?: Soothe

Sasuke arrives outside her building shortly before seven in the morning, an ubiquitous aubade sung by birds, polished and practiced for many years, lilting into his ears along the way. The village for the most part is still slowly awakening from its slumber; no merchants in the streets yet, and he only passes a few people here and there as light slowly seeps higher into the sky.

He carefully pushes open the glass door of the exterior portion of her complex, making sure to keep it quiet in case her neighbors are still asleep. As he goes up the stairs, he notices that all of the downstairs tenants’ lights are on, emanating from beneath the trio of entryways. Once he reaches the upper landing, he sees that Sakura’s light is on, too, though her other two neighbors' are not.

The doors of each unit are all painted different colors. Hers is sage green; he hadn’t been able to discern that previously, with the desaturation that night brings.

He's wondering if maybe he should knock to let her know he’s here, but then she emerges a few minutes early, beautiful and bright-eyed and full of life, pale yellow sunshine coating her from the large window with diamond patterning behind him.

She seems pretty awake already; she must be an early riser. She's carrying her tote bag again, and today she wears a dark skirt with a red top, along with a familiar pair of knee-high sandals. She's also wearing a smile, directed upwards at him.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she acknowledges him softly, looking very happy to see him.

"...Morning." He keeps his voice low, because it is still a little hoarse. He tries to memorize her eyes again in the span of seconds before she turns to lock her door behind her.

It's 6:58 by the time they're out the glass door, her leading the way. They take the main road west a few blocks before turning to go north, this time. There are several more buildings that appear residential on her street. One of them has vines creeping up the sides, starting to bud after the warmer spring weather. He notes there is also a bakery on the corner, not open yet, but one that seems like the kind to also sell confections. He wonders if that factored into her apartment selection at all; he remembers she has a sweet tooth.

It is an easy silence they share on the walk there, bird calls lulling in as background noise again. There are more of them now, a more layered song than earlier, with a wider variety of voices filtering in and out.

Sakura leads them to a very small tea shop within five minutes of the hospital; it is quaint and simple, definitely not modern. It is also quite small, with only four or so small tables situated by windows, looking out towards the street. The entire establishment utilizes a spread of cinnamon-colored wood for its surfaces; floors, counters, and the shelving in the back, laden with neatly-labeled teas of several varieties in glass jars. He assumes the larger jars are store stock, with the smaller ones higher up on the shelves being available for purchase for use at home, if one decides they like a particular flavor enough.

He finds he likes the atmosphere. He figured he would. It's not a formal place, but rather one where you retrieve what you've ordered from the counter and can choose whether to stay or go. He supposes that makes sense; it’s closer to the busier part of the village. There appears to be a small area to the left of the counter where one can add cream, sugar, lemon, or honey, though he knows he won't. He vaguely remembers that she used to take lemon and sugar in her tea, and possibly cream, depending on the brew. Honey seems like something Sakura would like, too, now that he’s thinking about it.

He scans the menu briefly upon entering before deciding something hot with caffeine would probably be best. Sencha green tea is usually what he gravitates toward. He also enjoys black tea during cooler weather, and jasmine occasionally, though not often; it had been his mother’s favorite.

Once he orders, he says, "Hers, too," and glances back towards Sakura expectantly. She looks at him with a blush that rivals the color of her hair when she realizes he's offering to pay for hers.

"Oh! Um, lavender matcha. Hot, please."

His lips quirk upwards a little, because that is possibly the most Sakura thing she could have ordered.

It doesn’t take very long until it’s ready, as they’re not busy; they are the only ones there, thus far. He takes a sip while idling by the end of the counter as he watches her add honey and cream into hers, stirring carefully. It is one of the better blends of sencha he’s had, aside from a particular place nestled on the edge of the Land of Mountains, where he’s pretty sure the elderly woman who ran the place harvested the tea straight from her private garden. He had pilgrimaged there a total of five times on his journey, months scattered like the seasons in between.

It was an odd teahouse, more formal than this one and off the beaten path, not near any major landmarks, nor plotted on any map he’d seen before or after. The lady, who had wizened eyes of a crystal clear blue, slightly lighter in hue than Naruto’s, had served the brews in eclectic and sometimes chipped mugs and teacups, from which he had assumed after multiple visits must be a fairly vast collection. The china was different every time, but he had liked the tea itself so much he kept coming back, if he was anywhere near the area. Twice he had been the only customer there, the first two visits occurring during early morning hours, and there was something extremely cathartic about sitting at the table in the far corner, looking out the window as the sun rose higher in the sky until it no longer skimmed the horizon and the mountains in the distance.

The other three visits had occurred during the afternoon, so there had been at least one or two other people present, at those times. He had noticed that third time that other patrons were served out of much different teacups than he was; he had secretly suspected, after that, that the woman tried to match the stoneware from her collection to whatever she saw in her patrons.

There had been a father sitting with his daughter, who had looked to be around six or seven, on his third visit. The father’s teacup had been robust, solid with carved detail that appeared to have been created with something like a miniature chisel, and an earthenware glaze mix of green and russet, strangely looking similar to the color of seaweed. The daughter’s had been a smaller cup, dainty finery of opalescent sky blue, with a similar mother of pearl finish coating the inside. The girl had quickly drained her glass once she realized the inside was pretty, too; she had spent the rest of the time there in awe of its beauty, turning it in the light as her father watched with soft eyes, enjoying his own cup more slowly. Sasuke had thought it must have been an expensive teacup, not necessarily what you’d typically give a child that young, but the girl hadn’t chipped or broken it. Instead, she had been enamored by its beautiful finish, even more enthralled with the inside than she had been with the outside, and had handled it with great care.

He never saw the same cup twice, for him or any other customer there. He had hoped by the third and fourth time that this was a good sign, that it meant progress. Once he figured it out, he wished he’d examined the first two cups, near five months apart, with greater care; he had thought there might have been a lesson there he had missed. His first teacup, from what he remembered, had been rather plain: rounded, no handle, slightly hard to grip, a shiny black glaze with a burnt orange rim. The second time, he’d been served the sencha in another black piece of china, though this one must have been fired differently; there was no glaze at the very bottom of the outer portion of the vessel, bare toasted clay in an oatmeal color. Carved designs on the outer portion of the piece had nearly melted glaze off it, allowing for the viewer to see the true color of the clay body beneath, creating an effect of brushstrokes in the third dimension, rippling out of the darkness. That one had had a chip at the top, but it hadn’t compromised the structural integrity of the piece, and was easily avoided simply by sipping from the undamaged side.

The third cup had taken him off guard in its uniqueness, and is what had caused him to look to the girl and her father. He had analyzed theirs, and then his own cup closely for a long time that day, thinking. Still no handle, but it had been a bit more narrow, as well as taller, easier to grip. The glaze design was fascinating, a thick glossy black base coat overlaid with a strange dissolving mixture of sapphire and indigo. It had reminded him of a night sky in the middle of nowhere, tiny amounts of galaxy blues and violets barely visible to the naked eye in their sheer scope and complexity. The glaze itself also only covered around two thirds of the vessel, at an asymmetrical angle, with the remaining half left unglazed, as if it hadn’t dripped down to be fully covered yet because the artist had liked the way it looked as is.

When he went back for a fourth cup several months later, the lady had given him an entirely too knowing look, and served his tea in a somewhat misshapen mug, this time with a handle. The handle was awkward, too small, and slightly malformed; the mug’s overall shape seemed as though it may have been an artist’s first attempt, shoddily trimmed and uneven in many places. The glaze design itself was mesmerizing, though, something like a gradient this time, shifting from splattering black to sepia to a lighter color, akin to the inside of a water chestnut. It was almost as if the cup had been constructed by a beginner and then drenched in magisterial color by a master. The sencha had tasted just as good from that cup as it had from any of the others, despite the challenge of grasping it with any semblance of comfort.

The last cup had been only a few months ago: well-designed, with a near perfect handle, easy to hold. The foot and interior of the mug was a smoky gray, well-trimmed, but the exterior body of it was a white raku crackle, twisting patterns of scale-like ivory and black outlines, small dots sprinkled in between where the unevenness of the heat must have interfered in the firing process.

When he reached the very bottom of the vessel, having finished his tea, it had been gilded gold, metallic and astonishingly bright, catching the light of the sun coming through the farthest window, where he sat in the corner alone.

He had sat there staring at it for the better portion of an afternoon. It was a peculiar artistic choice.

This sencha is good, too, he thinks as he takes another sip, here with Sakura, also at a table in the farthest corner, looking out another window. Herbaceous, earthy, and light, and in a cup that matches hers. It feels cleansing on his sore throat, corrosion, not too hot but not lukewarm, either; a rather perfect medium between mellow and astringent. It is a nice way to greet the break of day.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she murmurs, after they’ve been seated for a few seconds.

He nods; she’s still flushed as she says it. He can see it better now, in the bright light of the window. He takes another sip, and continues to enjoy looking at her.

“How is yours?” She asks.

“...I like it.” He considers his next words. “You didn’t add lemon.”

Her lips quirk upward, dimple appearing. “It doesn’t go the best with the lavender. They only have this kind on hand for the springtime.” She pauses, then adds, “I still put lemon in pretty much all my tea, otherwise.”

Sasuke inclines his head again, and she takes another sip.

They sit there for a while in a comfortable silence, watching more of the village wake up and people pass by from the window, on their way to work and other responsibilities. There are two small birds across the street, perched on the awning over an apartment building’s entrance. Finches, he deduces by their plumage and size. Perhaps they are looking for a mixture of materials with which to build a nest.

“It’s a good place to just sit and watch, in the morning,” Sakura mentions after a while, still looking out the window contentedly.

“...Is that your favorite thing about it?”

She meets his eyes, then, and smiles. “One of them.”

He looks at her expectantly, so she continues. “The tea itself is good. It’s close to the hospital, and I like... “ Her voice trails off, and she glances over at the station where she added cream and honey, lips still turned upwards. “I like that they don’t overfill the cup; it makes it easier to add what it needs.”

A ghost of a smile overtakes him. Practical, as always.

Sasuke finds himself contemplating what kind of teacup the elderly lady would give Sakura, if he took her there.

XXX

"You're a little on the skinny side for your height, now," Sakura notes as she writes down his information on the form he's given her, stepping off the scale; 163 pounds. "Not unhealthy, necessarily, but you should try to put on some weight."

They are at the hospital, in an exam room this time instead of her office. Her voice has shifted to something more professional, and Sasuke knows he is now with Sakura the clinician, though her affection is still an undercurrent in the way she's looking at him carefully with warm eyes. She’s already measured his height, and has his paperwork from his last physical to compare it to; apparently he’s grown another two inches since then.

He hopes he’s done growing, in that regard. It doesn’t seem likely that she’ll grow any taller; she’s twenty now, and they already have a considerable height difference. He doesn’t know how tall she is, exactly. He must hover over her by at least six or seven inches.

"Okay," He responds, because he trusts her judgment. Being away and mulling on his failures never gave him much of an appetite. Being back in Konoha hasn't much either, so far, but he can try. “How much?”

She looks somewhat surprised that he asked. “160 to 196 pounds is considered a normal range for six feet; I’d start with ten, and then evaluate from there.”

He nods. Her eyes linger on him, as if she’s contemplating saying something more. When she turns to set down her clipboard and grab the cuff typically used to measure blood pressure, he thinks she must have decided against it, whatever it was. He goes to sit in the patient’s chair, familiar with the routine at this point. He's gotten a physical near every year of his life that he’s spent in Konoha.

She sits on the wheeled chair that’s next to the desk, rolling it closer to him. He extends his right arm, and as she carefully adjusts the cuff, she tells him, tone casual, “You’ve got an inch on Naruto, now.”

There is a very stupid and juvenile part of him that takes immense satisfaction in this news, but she doesn’t look like she’s finished speaking yet. He waits for the rest.

She smiles apologetically. “He’s got about fifteen pounds on you, though. There’s some motivation for you.”

He pins her with a pointed stare, unimpressed but also a little amused. Motivation, indeed.

Her expression turns somewhat guilty, now. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. I did his about a month ago; he came back from a mission with a cracked rib, and it needed to be updated.”

She starts increasing the pressure, and he suddenly becomes aware that she is closer to him than before, by the nature of the operation of the equipment. He had become aware of her physical proximity at roughly this point in the exam the last time, too.

He’s thankful it doesn’t seem to affect his blood pressure. “105 over 70; good,” she concludes, before reaching to remove the cuff from his arm. Her fingertips make brief contact with his skin, this time, and he has to fight an urge to shiver, even though they’re warm.

She picks up her pen to input this information in the appropriate slot, then sets it aside and puts away the cuff. When she turns back to him, she says, “Heart rate is next. Hold out your wrist, please.”

He holds out his right arm again, letting his elbow rest on the surface of the desk this time. Both of her hands come to grip his single one, lightly and carefully feeling for his pulse. He tries to hold very still, and to not think about how soft her hands are. He distracts himself by preoccupying his gaze with the clock on the wall behind her. It feels like a very long thirty seconds, though he knows by watching the hand tick that it’s actually not.

She doesn’t vocalize what the number is, just removes her hands finally and reaches for the pen to fill it in on the paper. He wonders if it was elevated.

“Heart and lungs next.” She reaches for the stethoscope, positioning it in her ears before leaning in to listen to his heart first, over his shirt. He looks to the ceiling.

It doesn’t take very long. “Sounds good. Lungs, next.” She gets up and comes around the chair slightly behind him. He shifts to pull the back portion of his shirt up to his shoulder; he remembers this from the last exam, too.

“It’ll be cold; I’m sorry,” she warns gently, before pressing the instrument to his back. She is nothing but professional as she asks him to take a few deep breaths. Routine, and very careful not to touch his skin with anything but the diaphragm of the stethoscope, cool metal.

It feels… different than the last exam. He had been a little on edge during this part, then, too, even though she was nothing but professional then, as well.

He is just… very aware that she is behind him, and that his shirt is pulled up, and she’s listening to him breathe and can see the skin of his back. And that he's kissed her.

The coolness slips away after a short amount of time. “Lung function sounds good.” He pulls his shirt back into place, feeling a faint sense of relief as he does so. She goes back to document her findings on the paperwork.

She then lays the stethoscope back in its appropriate place. Scanning the page, she asks, “Any issues with your hearing?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Sasuke responds. She dips her head in acknowledgement, filling in that box with what he assumes is non-applicable.

“Sense of smell?”

He recalls raspberries and antiseptic. “No.” She fills another box.

“Sinus or lymph node issues?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m assuming you’ve used the Sharingan and Rinnegan since last time, so I’ll look at your eyes towards the end.”

He nods, and she reaches for a light instrument to use to look at his throat, as well as one of the wooden sticks from a glass jar in the corner. “Throat next,” she says, flicking the light on.

He tries not to furrow his brow. He wasn't looking forward to this part.

He opens his mouth for the wood, reedlike and firm against his tongue, and then she’s shining the light in and frowning.

“Say ah, please.”

He complies, feeling quite undignified, though he knows it’s necessary and just part of her job. She removes the stick after a second, setting the flashlight instrument aside, and he closes his mouth.

"Teeth and gums look good, and your tonsils look fine, but your throat looks a little raw. Have you been sick recently?"

"Yes." It is technically the truth, though not in a viral sense.

She looks thoughtful as she’s making a note on her clipboard. “Within the past week?”

He nods. She must see him from the corner of her eye, because then she asks, while still writing, “Any other symptoms? Cough? Does it feel sore?”

“No.” He pauses, then clarifies. “No cough. A little sore. Not bad.”

Verdant eyes flick up to him for a long moment. He feels somewhat guilty; even if he knows the truth, she might be thinking right now that he’s been irresponsible, that he may have given her an illness via kissing.

She breaks eye contact eventually, and sets the pen down, standing to open the uppermost cupboard door in the exam room. His brow furrows, until she’s pulling down a small box that he sees has cough drops in them.

“We only have mixed berry; they’ll be kind of sweet, but it should help. Take a few for later, and put one in now, please.”

Sasuke blinks, and then takes a handful. He puts all but one in his pocket, and then unwraps the one left in his hand, putting it in his mouth, as she asked.

She arches to put the box back in the cupboard, and he forces himself to look elsewhere.

It does feel good on his throat, soothing. “...Thank you,” he says after a few more seconds, as she makes another note on his form.

“You’re welcome,” she replies. Then, back to clinical Sakura. “Any other issues? Abdominal, neurological?”

“No.”

She flips the page. “Infectious disease screening questions are next. Obviously you’ve traveled outside the village in the past 21 days, but have you been outside of Fire Country in that time?”

He thinks. “Rain, about thirteen days ago. Wind, 19 days ago.”

Sakura inclines her head, and writes in the information. He notices she keeps her eyes trained on the questionnaire now. “Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person with measles, mumps, or chickenpox in that time period?”

“No.” She checks the 'no' box.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person or source in that time period for any of the following: botulism, diphtheria, E. coli, encephalitis, hemorrhagic fever, hepatitis, influenza, listeriosis, malaria, meningitis, pneumonia, rabies, severe acute respiratory syndrome, smallpox, or yellow fever?”

“No.” He watches her check several 'no' boxes.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person in that time period who may have exposed you to any sexually transmitted infections?”

He’s glad she’s looking at the paper still, even if that answer is obvious. “No.” She checks several more 'no' boxes.

“And you didn’t have a fever earlier.” She checks another 'no' box. “And sore throat, but no shortness of breath at any point?”

“No.”

“Vomiting or diarrhea?”

“...Vomiting, yes,” he answers honestly. “No to the second.”

She nods, as if she knew that already from looking at his throat. She probably did. She’s good at what she does.

“Any kind of rash?”

“No.”

That’s the last question on the page, so she turns to the next one.

“Next is bloodwork. We’ll do a cholesterol screening, in regards to heart health, and then we’ll also do a general workup and run it for any infectious diseases. I don’t think we’ll find anything if it’s just the vomiting and resulting sore throat, but better safe than sorry.”

She then starts getting out the necessary supplies with which to get a blood sample. It doesn’t take very long; he holds out his right arm again, and Sakura finds the vein easily. “You’ll feel a pinch.” Within sixty seconds it’s over, and she’s pressing and holding the cotton to the dot of red before taping over it, a small pressure dressing.

“Leave that on for a few hours, please,” she advises, and he nods to indicate that he will. She makes quick work of labeling the blood sample, and sets it aside with the clipboard, he assumes for the end of the appointment.

She scribbles in a few more comments on the sheet, he assumes for whoever is running the tests. “Okay, just eyes and arm left. We’ll do eyes first. Any deterioration in vision that you’ve noticed?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll shine the light to check your pupils quick before I use chakra to look at them.” She grabs a different light tool, a penlight, and turns it on, before looking at him expectantly.

He blinks, curious what she’s waiting for, and then she asks softly, “Could you move your hair out of the way, please?”

Oh. He complies, and she shines the light in one eye, moving it slightly and monitoring the progress. She then does the same to his Rinnegan.

“Reactivity is good; no signs of defect.” She sets the penlight back where it belongs, then makes a note in his paperwork indicating that. Then she’s shifting her chair a tiny bit closer, so she can reach his eyes with her hands.

“Do you have a preference, which one I start with?” She asks. He shakes his head. “Okay; I’ll check the right eye first.” She reaches out with her left hand, pressing her thumb above his eye over his eyebrow, and her other four fingers lightly to his temple, just next to his eye socket.

Sasuke tries not to dwell on how close she is again as green chakra drizzles into his ocular system; he keeps his vision trained forward, as he knows he’s supposed to as she examines. There is a freckle on her right ear that he remembers focusing on, the last time; he does this time, too.

Around thirty seconds passes, before she informs him, “I’m going to funnel some chakra into the retina and optic nerve here; there’s some damage.”

He had suspected there might be, though his vision has not suffered; mostly there was just a bit of pain, sometimes. He hasn’t overworked it by any means, but he hasn’t completely abstained from using it since he’d last been healed by her, either. “Okay.”

The flow of her chakra works its way deeper, more of it now. This part has always relaxed him; her chakra really is quite calming, careful and gentle, threading its way behind his eye and wrapping around the nerve.

She works for about five minutes before the chakra starts to let up.

“...There. That should be a little better,” she says before lifting her hand from his right. “Look up, down, please.”

He complies.

“Left to right, now.” He does. “Good. Does it feel okay?”

He nods, meeting her eyes again finally. It feels stronger, no pain. He decides to verbalize that, even though he’s already nodded. “It’s better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him. “Good.” Then she’s detailing whatever she’s supposed to detail in the paperwork, before setting the pen down again.

“Left eye now.”

She repeats the process, frowning again. “There’s some damage here, too. I’ll fix it.”

This time, it takes longer; not quite ten minutes, but fairly close. He tries to focus on the wall behind her.

He had asked her once, when she was healing him following the war, if it used a lot of chakra. She had said not necessarily, but it depended on the level of damage. She also told him that it was moreso a delicate process, requiring careful manipulation, so he has tried not to talk during any healing sessions since.

When her hand finally pulls away, he’s gotten so used to the contact that it feels like a loss.

“Look up, down, please,” she requests again. Then left to right.

“Function looks good. How does it feel?”

“Better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him gently, just Sakura again for a second, before turning back to the form to finish the optical section.

Then, she turns the page. “Arm is last. Could you please roll up your sleeve to your shoulder?” He grabs his empty left sleeve with his right arm and starts shifting it upwards, rolling it so that it stays put once it’s to the top.

She touches the end of what’s left of the limb with careful fingers, soft but steady on marred skin and scar tissue. “I’ll look with chakra in a second, but any redness that you’ve noticed?”

“No.” He shifts his gaze forward, because her fingertips really are softer than he remembers.

“Any areas that occasionally feel warmer than is typical?”

He shakes his head.

“Swelling of any kind?”

“No.”

“Have you been stretching it as instructed?”

He meets her eyes, then. “Yes.” He wants her to know he listens to her recommendations.

Soft jade, and she’s smiling again. She moves her hands away momentarily, and grabs the clipboard with the papers, checking several boxes as he has indicated. He looks back forward.

“Any phantom limb pain?”

“Sometimes.”

“Residual limb pain?”

“...Sometimes.”

Her gaze flicks upward. “If you had to rate it on a scale, one being hardly anything and ten being the worst?”

“...Usually two or three.” He pauses, and she waits. “...Sometimes four or five.”

“How often, for the worst of it?”

He thinks. “Maybe twice or three times a month.” It’s a bit more often than that, but not by a lot.

She notes it on the paper; that must be a normal range. “Alright. I’ll check with chakra, now.” Her fingers come back to his stump, touching more firmly now. Green chakra starts to thread its way in.

Sakura frowns, after a second. “Nerve endings are a little inflamed. I’ll fix it.” The flow of her chakra increases, and he feels almost instant relief; he supposes it still hurt, faintly. Maybe he just got used to it. “Has it hurt in the last day or so?”

“...Late last night.”

She nods, as if that makes sense. “It won’t take too long. Maybe five minutes.”

He inclines his head just barely, not wanting to move while she’s working.

“You should let me know if it hurts again,” she suggests quietly, after a moment. “It doesn’t take much to fix.”

“...Okay.”

There is a comfortable silence for a few minutes as she works. He feels the chakra start to dilute a little towards the end of it.

“I’m going to stop my chakra and manually massage the tissue, now. It should help prolong the effect.”

He feels her chakra dissipate. She has done this to him before, throughout the rehabilitation process following the war; it was more important then, she’d said, to develop tolerance to touch and pressure of the residual limb. It had hurt, the first few times, but later in the healing process, he had secretly enjoyed it; it made it hurt much less, and the process itself felt… nice.

He had privately wondered what it would feel like on his back.

It elicits the same response now, too, kneading fingertips gradually increasing pressure to access deeper tissue, helping to work away pain that has lived there for a while.

"You wear your hair differently now," she comments after an incredibly nice period of time, still pressing tenderly in little circles, though the pressure is starting to taper off now, since they’re getting towards the end of five minutes; that was roughly the time she would do back then. Since there’s no chakra anymore, it must require less of her concentration.

He realizes he hasn’t shifted his hair back into place yet, then. He takes a moment, then responds quietly, furtively, "Most people dislike looking at the Rinnegan."

She doesn’t respond right away; just finishes massaging the end of his stump, then removes her hands to pick up her pen.

"Not me," she murmurs softly as she makes her final notations.

His heart flips in his chest, and he feels his face grow warm. He's glad she's focusing on the forms, so she can't see the effect her words have had.

The lozenge has dissolved fully, and his throat isn't as sore.

XXX

Sasuke goes to the Hokage’s office, after, to see if the dobe is there. He has some time to kill before lunch, and he wants to take him up on his offer to spar at some point, given that his eyes are freshly healed. Now that he knows Sakura’s schedule for the next few days, he can fill the rest of his time with whatever else. He’ll see her tomorrow at four, at the hospital, and then at Ichiraku’s on Saturday, and then for a bit after, too; they still need to confirm an actual time for that with Naruto and Kakashi. He assumes Sunday and Monday must be her days off. If they’re not, she works too much. He’s going to ask her tomorrow, he thinks.

Oddly, he finds only Kakashi in his office.

“Ah, Sasuke. Good morning,” he greets as he walks through the doors.

“...Morning.”

The copy ninja sizes him up with a single eye for a long moment, as if considering what to ask him. Sasuke braces himself.

"You got your physical done."

Sakura had said after the bloodwork was complete, she’d drop off the paperwork for him. "...I did."

"It went well, I assume."

"...It did."

"Wonderful," he says quietly, sounding pensive.

There is a very long pause.

“And the date, with Sakura this morning, before that? That went well, also?”

Sasuke deliberates. There is no teasing lilt to his old sensei's voice this time, just genuine curiosity, so he answers honestly, even though his neck warms and he doesn’t quite appreciate being spied on. “...It did.”

Kakashi gives him one of the widest and most genuine smiles he has ever seen him wear, beneath the mask.

“Wonderful,” the copy ninja says again, this time teeming clearly with pride and meaning.

“...Yeah.” Sasuke agrees, looking anywhere but at him.

Kakashi shuffles a few papers around his desk, and starts talking again, as if Sasuke has not just admitted to something he’s sure their sensei had suspicions about for the better portion of eight years. “Well, Naruto’s not here; I’m assuming that’s who you were looking for. Hinata’s leaving for a mission later today, around one, so I gave him the day off. I kind of assumed he’d use the opportunity to seek you out for a spar in the afternoon, after she leaves. He was going on about it yesterday, along with a Team Seven dinner on Saturday night; sounds like that will be at six.”

Sasuke just blinks, gears turning still; the scroll from yesterday is still on the desk, so he's not sure why he'd grant Naruto another day off so easily.

Kakashi further clarifies, smile shifting into something more sly. “I wouldn’t go over there before a little after one, if I were you.”

His first thought is oh, and he feels rather stupid. His next thought is gross. His old sensei is grinning, as if his reaction amuses him; he must have made some kind of face that belayed his internal thought process.

“Ah, love requited and besotten newlyweds. What a time." Sasuke's neck burns again, because he realizes after a second that the ‘love requited' portion of that is referring to Sakura and himself. Kakashi's moving on, though. "Anyway, now that I’ve given you too much information…” His voice trails off, and he looks at the intricate scroll tucked away at the table beside his desk, where Naruto usually sits. “If you’re not busy and want something to do until lunch, you could take a look at this scroll for me, since Naruto won’t be getting to it today.” He appears to be thinking, then adds. “For all his progress, he can still be less than perceptive, in certain instances. Your assistance could be invaluable, since I’m occupied with other tasks at the moment.”

Sasuke ponders for a bit; he has already read a good portion of the way through his books, and it’ll be a few hours before he needs to eat. It's not lost on him that this involves a level of trust in him on Kakashi's part, as whatever is in the scroll is likely not public knowledge.

He decides it can’t hurt, though he hopes he doesn’t get asked any more questions about Sakura. He makes his way to take Naruto’s seat, opening up the scroll.

He stares at it long and hard, rolling it out on the table to examine it more closely. Kakashi wordlessly grabs the stapler on his desk and sets it on the top end of the parchment, to hold it in place as he further unravels it. It appears to be a cipher, and quite a complicated one.

“...You think Naruto’s going to be able to crack this?” Sasuke questions incredulously, glancing towards his old sensei with his brows furrowed in doubt. His eyes catch as he does so on the framed photograph sitting on his desk; from this angle, the side instead of the front, he can now see that it’s their original Team Seven photo. He hasn't seen it in a long time.

Kakashi chuckles, not looking up from his paperwork. “Not at all, which is why I was helping him with it yesterday. It’s good practice for him, though, and at the very least, it does keep him busy when I don't have anything else for him to do.”

XXX

Sasuke ambles back to his apartment around noon. He made some progress on the cipher, enough that Kakashi said Naruto might actually be able to take it from there. It feels good to be of use.

It also feels good to have something to give the idiot shit over, when he goes to visit him later.

He empties the cough drops from his pocket into one of the cups he bought yesterday, and pops another one into his mouth before he starts getting out ingredients to cook. It feels good on his throat, menthol pleasantly numbing despite the slightly sweet taste. He pours a hefty amount of rice into a pot to start boiling, and then begins slicing carrots and scallions and mushrooms for takikomi gohan. It takes a while to slice with one arm, as holding the vegetables in place with one hand is a challenge, but he manages by summoning a clone. Once he’s done, he slips them in a pan with some salt and dashi stock. He also adds frozen peas before covering it with the lid to simmer.

Once that’s going, he washes his hand, then folds the comforter he had washed and left out to dry this morning, ultimately storing it in the closet. He stirs the vegetable mixture occasionally, after, reading more of his book while he waits for the rice to finish. The one about kenjutsu is more interesting than he thought it would be. He might finish it by the time he sees Sakura tomorrow.

He really hopes he can walk her home again; he hadn’t gotten a chance to kiss her today. She might not want him to, if she thinks he's sick, but somehow he suspects she likely understood it wasn't actual illness. She's good at what she does, and smart.

It’s a simple but savory lunch, a larger portion than he’s accustomed to. He eats all of it, albeit slowly, as he reads.

Uncannily, an abrupt and earsplitting knocking erupts on his door as he puts the last bite in his mouth to chew.

“TEME! Open up!” More incessant knocking. “I’m fucking bored, and Kakashi-sensei gave me the day off! Let’s spar!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and closes his book before standing to rinse his dish, setting it in the sink to wash later, along with the pot and pan already rinsed and stacked there.

“Alright, dobe. You don’t need to bust down my door.”

He grabs another cough drop and removes the tape and cotton from his arm before he goes. It’s a little tender, but the blood has clotted by now.

[marvxlousqueen]

So Fucking Sore- Bucky x Loki x Reader

i have returned from the dead to deliver this smut for my friend’s birthday LMAOO anyways for this let’s just pretend tony killed thanos in endgame and brought back nat and gamora and nobody died haha yes anyways bucky is a simp in this tbh (and i’ve never written for loki so forgive me if it’s bad LMAOO)

anyways happy bday bestie (don’t wanna expose ur name on here lol) love u <3

word count: 3.5k

The Avengers compound was more full than it had ever been. Finally, every floor was filled, every guest room taken, some sleeping bags even rolled onto the floor. Tony hadn’t planned to host the entirety of the avengers force, some odd one thousand people. After defeating Thanos and fixing the time lines, Tony felt as though they deserved a break and a celebration. Although most people were still recovering and wouldn’t stay for long at the party, he figured laughter is the best medicine- that, and he always loved an occasion to show off his hosting skills. 

Tony’s invitation even extended to the staff at the compound, which is how (Y/n) found herself holding a rsvp letter, trying to decide which box to check off. 

“Yes [   ]  (+1)   No [    ]”

She fumbled with the letter, pen getting heavy in her hand. She was seated in her office, taking her lunch break in between helping some of the injured Wakandan soldiers. Being an on-site nurse, of course she had had encounters with the team, but nothing like this party would be. 

Would it be embarrassing if I didn’t have a plus one, she thought

She was interrupted by a knock at her door. “Come in,” she said without looking up. 

The door slowly opened and Bucky entered, small smile on his face. 

“Hey.. just figured I’d bring you some snacks. Figure you must be real busy in the infirmary.”

He set a plate of strawberries on the table with a bottle of water, metal arm extending towards her. (Y/n) could briefly see her reflection in the shine of the vibranium. She lost herself for a moment, examining his arm.

“(Y/n)?” 

“What- oh yeah! Super busy. Thanks, Buck,” she gave him a smile, cheeks burning.

They had always had some sort of chemistry, but she just couldn’t quite get a read on it enough to make a move. Ever since reconnecting with Steve, Bucky had gotten back into his old ways. Still a giant flirt, just maybe a little more shy than in the 40s. He loved to toss some pick up lines around whenever he wound up in the infirmary (which was a little too often), so (Y/n) couldn’t figure out if he really liked her or was flirty with everyone. 

“What’s that you got there?” He motioned to the rsvp letter on her desk, still unanswered.

“Oh, invitation to Tony’s party thing this weekend. Think he’s trying to get a head count for seats and food. Don’t think I’m going to go, though.”

Bucky pulled up a chair to her desk, “Why wouldn’t you go? You should be celebrating too, I mean- half of us wouldn’t be in this good of a condition without your healing hands.”

His lips pulled into a smirk as he saw her smile shyly. He loved how we could always make her melt at the slightest compliement.

“I think it might be a little embarrassing to show up without a plus one.. I don’t know, it’s probably stupid, but it seems like everyone has someone, you know?”

(Y/n) shrugged, not sure how else to explain her thoughts.

Bucky nodded, running a hand through his hair, “So- what, you’re waiting for someone to ask you?” 

“I- No, but it would be nice, I guess.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. Here’s my chance, he thought. A chance to get some real action because I’ve been out of it for too fucking long. 

(Y/n) looked up at him, waiting for a response. When nothing came, she pushed through her nerves. “You don’t have a date, do you?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, wide with worry. “I-uh-no. D-don’t need one. Just a party, you know? Kinda stupid to get a date for a party like this.”

“Oh- yeah, totally,” (Y/n) stumbled over her words, facing burning with embarrassment. Did he call me stupid? Well, I guess that answers my questions- he is definitely NOT into me. 

 Bucky almost slapped himself after seeing the way (Y/n)’s face dropped. THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG!! He meant to come off as relaxed and nonchalant like he used to be, but instead he sounded like a dick. 

Before he could get an apology out, another knock was heard from her office door. “C-come in!”

Steve opened the door, “Hey- oh hey buck,” Bucky awkwardly waved at him, still busy screaming at himself, “anyways, (Y/n)- Thor’s got friends on the way and apparently they got a little scuffed up on the way from Norway, so you think you can head in and check on em?” 

“Yes! Totally! Uh- bye Bucky, I-I’ll see you.” She jumped out of her seat and rushed off down the hall, happy to get away from this tension with Bucky.

Steve watched her speed off down the hall before turning back to his old friend. “So.. how’s that going?”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not going at all. I think I accidently called her dumb? I don’t know- I kinda blacked out for a minute there.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll be fine. You got plenty of time to fix anything and make your move when you’re ready, all right?”

He understood how his friend was having some difficulties. While he was far more stable then he used to be, Bucky still had his moments and was working through them. Steve couldn’t be prouder. 

“I guess you’re right. As long as no other guy tries to scoop her up.”

--

(Y/n) entered the infirmary, breathing hard from the speed walk she took to escape that awkwardness. Laying on two of the beds was a tall man with long black hair and some sort of creature with knives attached to it’s hands. 

“(Y/n)! My friends require your services!” Thor shouts, embracing her in a hug.

She laughs as he squeezes her tightly, “Of course! Now let me go so I can help-”

The man who was reclining on the first bed sat up, eyebrows raised. “You’re a healer?”

She looked towards him, noting his accent was similar to Thor’s, “Well- no. Not a healer, just a nurse, but I’ll do my best. With all this new tech it’ll be real easy to batch you up. What happened?”

Thor spoke up, “My dear friend here,” he motioned toward the creature with the blades for hands, “Miek- got into a argument with my dear brother and knives were thrown. Just minor stab wounds of course, but it would be nice for them to be healed before Stark’s feast.”

“Your brother?” She looked towards the man with black hair, who offered a smile. “You’re Loki?” 

“The trickster god indeed.”

Her face heated up, partially in fear and partially in awe. Before her was the man who constantly tried to rule Earth. “Are you-,” she turned to Thor, “is he allowed to be here?”

“Of course! He aided me in our fight against Thanos. He stands as an avenger now.” 

Loki rolled his eyes and began to spin a small knife he pulled from his boot.  (Y/n) nodded, still registering everything, “Well, uh , okay then. Where’s the stab wound?” 

Loki moved to lift his shirt. On his left side was a gash still dripping blood. (Y/n) took a deep breathe, forcing herself to focus on his wound and not the outline of his abs and the way sweat was dripping down.

“Oh- jesus christ, okay. Let me get some stuff.”

The creature on the other bed made a noise and (Y/n) realized he was injured too, a small blade sticking out of his leg. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She ran to the other side to grab materials and begin patching them up. The process went like a blur. All she could feel was the way Loki’s body felt warm against hers, not like the cold she was expecting from his being a dark elf. His hand brushed against hers as he admired her handy work, eyes moving from her face to her form. Finally she was done and seated back in her office, yelling at herself for being so horny today for no goddamn reason. 

As she took a seat once again, she noticed the still blank rsvp card.

God-fucking-damn it

She still had a decision to make. As she went to check the “No [   ]” box, her door opened. Loki walked in and quickly made himself comfortable, sitting across from her. 

“I wish to thank you for the help.”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide, “Of course, yeah, anyth-”

“I also wish to invite you to Stark’s feast.”

She froze, mouth slightly open. I don’t even know this dude! And he’s killed a shit ton of people..

“Uh, well,” oh fuck it, “I would love that. Thanks.”

He smiled, “I’ll see you then, (Y/n).”

He left and closed the door behind him. She rushed to fill out the card and went to find Tony. Knowing him, he’d probably be down in his lab playing robots with Morgan. (Y/n) hopped in the elevator and headed towards the basement above the parking garage. It stopped around 3 floors down and the sign flashed “gym.” The doors opened and Bucky entered, sweaty from trying to workout and get rid of all these new feelings he’s having. He didn’t look up from his phone until the doors closed behind him. 

His eyes landed on hers, “O-oh hey! Hi.”

(Y/n) gave him a wave and looked down at her letter, rolling it up in her hands.

“You going to the party?”

“Yep.”

“That’s good! Really good! Because you really don’t need a date for stuff like this, we’re all friends, right?” Bucky was desperately trying to make up for what he had said earlier. 

“I have a date actually.”

His eyes widened, “What? Who?”

She turned and shrugged, “Just some guy I met, don’t think you would know him.”

A light went off in his head- she’s trying to make me jealous, isn’t she! She doesn’t have a date! She just wants me to make my move!

Bucky laughed and gave her a smirk, “You don’t have to lie to impress me, doll.”

She whipped around, “Excuse me? You don’t think I can get a date?”

His cheeks turned bright red, “W-what? No, you’re just trying to make me jealous.. right?”

Her jaw dropped, “You are so full of it.” 

The elevator dinged and (Y/n) exited into the basement, leaving Bucky’s head full of questions.

Did I just fuck up again, he thought. 

The next few days past fairly quickly. (Y/n) spent her time in the medical bay once again, dealing with minor injuries and organizing the first aid kits. The few highlights she did have was a quick lunch with Loki, which seemed very abnormal for him. He showed up in her office with, as he called it, “Midgardian Trash,” which was just a plate of different snack foods that Clint had recommended. They ate in a comfortable silence, sharing a few thoughts here and there, until he took his que to leave. (Y/n) walked him to the door and was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her face heat up.

“See you tomorrow, dear (Y/n).”

She stumbled out a response, making him laugh at her speechlessness. After work she rushed to prepare herself for Saturday night.

--

It was probably the biggest party upstate New York had ever seen. Completely catered, a professional band, everyone dressed up in their finest clothing. (Y/n) would’ve felt completely out of place if it wasn’t for Loki’s arm wrapped around her waist as they entered. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark green tie, constantly repping his main color. Time flew as they spun on the dance floor and drank a little too much, although alcohol didn’t seem to have much effect on him. Loki excused himself to the restroom as (Y/n) downed a glass of water to sober up. She felt someone sit next to her at the bar.

“Look, I’m not interested-”

“Are you crazy? Like- do you genuinely have a death wish?”

She looked beside her and was face to face with Bucky. It felt weird to see him so dressed up. She was used to the sweats and t-shirts, but she had to admit that he cleaned up nice. 

“What are you talking about?”

He glared at her, “Loki? Your date is LOKI. Steve filled me in, I know everything. He’s killed people, (Y/n)! A lot of them!”

“So have you.”

“I-” His voice faltered. “That’s different, you know it is. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well don’t be. He’s actually a pretty good guy. And here he comes now.”

Loki appeared, tapping Bucky on the shoulder, “can I help you?”

“We were just talking.”

He laughed, “seems you would rather do much more than that.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrowed, ‘What does that mean?”

Bucky’s face turned red, “nothing! I guess I’ll leave you two alone now.” 

“Nonsense,” Loki pushed him back into the chair. “Tell the woman what you think of her. Perhaps it could work out for you, or for us both.”

“What!?”

(Y/n) was confused again, “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

Loki looked her up and down, “don’t be a fool. He fancies you, as do I. I propose an agreement-”

“wait what,” she looked at Bucky, “you like me? Like- more than a friend?”

He looked down at the table, confused and frustrated about his feelings and about how this alien douchebag was making fun of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up.

“Listen asshole-”

Loki rolled his eyes, “do you wish to mount the lady or no?”

(Y/n) choked on her water, “what the fuck-”

Bucky’s eyes felt like they would fall out of his head, but he responded instinctively, “yes, god yes.”

Butterflies went off in (Y/n)’s stomach, eyes locked onto Bucky’s face.

“Great. So do I. So we shall share her then? Tonight? What do you think?” 

Loki turned to (Y/n), who was in shock.

“I-what?”

“Tonight, the two of us, yes? In your chambers, perhaps.”

“I-uh, okay.”

Bucky licked his lips, “Okay?”

“Yes, I mean-fuck, why not. You are both.. wow.”

Loki laughed, “Great, but truly shocking how blind you mortals are to each other.” 

The three of them sat in a weird tension at the bar while waiting for Tony to give his toast. After about 10 minutes of emotional rambling, Tony finally raised his glass to the Avengers. (Y/n) downed her drink and looked to the two men sitting beside her. Locking eyes, they shared a common thought and all excused themselves one by one. They found their way into (Y/n)’s bedroom, where she made herself at home by throwing off the heels she had been wearing all night. 

“So-uh-”

Bucky cut off her rambling with a hot, open mouthed kiss pressed to her lips. His hands trailed down her sides and grabbed her ass. He pulled away, breathing hard. “You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

He suddenly felt far more confident and began to strip off his suit, starting with the tie that had been choking him all night. Loki threw off his coat and pushed (Y/n) onto her bed. 

“I want you to kneel.” 

She stood up on her knees, face flushed, waiting for his next move. He slowly undid his pants and pulled out his cock. 

Well, yeah, he’s definitely packing

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to the tip before licking her way from the bottom back to the top. She took a deep breath and took him in her mouth as far as she could. Loki began to thrust, gripping her hair and pushing her forward, using her mouth as a fucktoy. (Y/n) opened her eyes to look up at him and noticed Bucky on the side, hand in his pants, eyes zeroed in on her mouth. She motioned for Bucky to strip, making him drop his pants and boxers, leaving him now completely exposed. His hand continued to pump his length, whimpers leaving his mouth. Loki noticed (Y/n)’s eye’s on Bucky and pulled away from her, leaving spit and precum dripping down her mouth.

“Take her.”

Bucky’s face flushed, embarrassed to be doing exactly what some other dude told him to. He walked towards the bed, cock standing proudly. 

“Is this okay?”

(Y/n) nodded yes, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him onto the bed with her. With Bucky underneath her, she lined up with his dick and sunk down onto it.

“Fuck! Jesus-fuck-”

(Y/n) couldn’t think for a moment, too distracted by how much he was stretching her. Bucky’s head was thrown up and his grip on her thighs tightened. He lifted his tips and bucked into her, making her gasp again.

Regaining her composure, (Y/n) began to roll her hips. As she rode him, Bucky sat up and his lips found their way to her neck, leaving marks up and down it. From the side of the bed, she could see Loki completely exposed now, hand running up and down his length as he watched them. He smirked as he caught her eye, making it more of a show. 

His hand moved faster before focusing on his tip. (Y/n)’s thoughts were broken from him as Bucky began to paw at her clit, rubbing it just the right way. Her hands went to his hair, pulling him close.

“God, so fucking-shit-so tight-”

Bucky’s voiced was strained, trying not to finish before her, but (Y/n) was making it difficult with how tight she was clamped around him. 

“Fuck-i’m so close, please!”

Bucky started thrusting up into her, “say my name-fuck”

“Bucky! Please!”

He rammed into her with a quick pace, hands groping her ass. (Y/n) a warmth growing in her, squeezing his dick even more. Finally, she reached her peak and exploded around him, dripping her juices down his dick. Bucky quickly flipped them over, putting one of her legs over his shoulder and started to pound into her. (Y/n) choked on her breath, completely overwhelmed from the overstimulation. Bucky’s thrusts began to stutter until he bucked one last time, going deep into her and exploding. He filled her up and slowly pulled out, seeing his cum dripping out of her.

“Holy shit.”

(Y/n) laughed, trying to catch her breath, “thanks, you too.”

“Quite the show, indeed.”

(Y/n) had almost forgot there was a whole other dude waiting to fuck her. Looking over, Loki’s cock was still standing tall, the tip burning red. 

He stood up and made his way to the bed, “On your hands and knees.”

His command made butterflies form in her stomach. (Y/n) turned over and got on her hands and knees. Loki entered her without warning, making her scream out in surprise. His hand came to her head, pushing her into the mattress. His pace picked up as he slammed into her.

“Jesus-fucking-god!”

Loki laughed through his heavy breathing, literally fucking her into the mattress.

“Let’s get something in that mouth, yes? Barnes-”

Bucky’s eyes moved from watching where Loki was connecting with (Y/n) to her mouth. “Sure-yeah, fuck yes.”

Bucky was thankful for his super soldier qualities because he was already up for round two. He got on the bed, dick facing (Y/n)’s mouth. She got back on her hands and kissed his tip before he pushed in. Bucky let (Y/n) control the pace although most times she was pushed on his dick by Loki’s hard thrusts. (Y/n) lost track of time as she getting literally fucking railed. Loki’s thrusts began to speed up and sweat was dripping down his godly body. 

(Y/n) felt the coil in her stomach tighten again, warmth spreading through out her, she was close, moaning around Bucky’s length. He pulled out of her mouth and began to jerk off, enjoying the show Loki and her were putting on. 

(Y/n) screamed as she reached her climax for the second time that night, eyes rolling to the back of her head, but Loki didn’t slow. He continued until one finally thrust, he pulled out and spilled onto her back, throwing his head back.

The noises (Y/n) was making made Bucky cum into his own hand before collapsing on the bed. 

(Y/n) dropped onto the bed, legs shaking. “Jesus- fuck.”

Bucky put a hand to her cheek, “you okay? We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

She shook her head, “No, just-fuck- I’m gonna be so fucking sore.”